Whispers In The Dark
by Sparkle731
Summary: Alcohol can numb your pain and make you forget but it can’t bring someone back from the dead. Chapter 19 & 20. Story is now complete.
1. Chapter 1

**WHISPERS IN THE DARK**

**Alcohol can numb your pain and make you forget but it can't bring someone back from the dead. **

**A/N: Rest assured, things are not always as they seem.**

Ken Hutchinson, known as Hutch to his friends and colleagues, raised his head and looked around with bleary eyes. The bar was filled with power drinkers, over the hill hookers trying to pick up a trick, and cheating spouses looking for a one night stand. With his wrinkled clothes, shaggy beard and long hair, Hutch blended right in. The last nine years had not been kind to the big blond.

He threw back the whiskey in the glass on the bar in front of him and signaled the overweight bartender for another one. What had started out as a way to numb his emotional pain had become a crutch that he needed in order to function normally. He started his day with a drink, he ended his day with drink. Sobriety was merely a dim memory from the past.

Hutch finished his drink and staggered to his feet. He stumbled his way through the crowd and exited the bar, bracing himself against the chill night air. He made his way to a battered brown Ford parked down the block. Like its owner, the car had seen better days. Hutch fumbled with his keys as he opened the door and slid underneath the wheel.

He twisted the key in the ignition, the engine grinding in protest.

"Come on you piece of shit." Hutch muttered as the temperamental engine finally sputtered to life with a backfire and a puff of smoke from the exhaust. Struggling to concentrate through the alcoholic fog in his brain, Hutch pulled into the street and headed for home.

Twenty minutes later, he pulled up in front of Venice Place and parked in front of the building. Opening the street level door, he climbed the steps to his second floor apartment. Very few people knew that he actually owned the building. It was one of the many carefully guarded secrets from his past. Despite his disheveled appearance, Hutch came from a privileged and wealthy background. His father's death three years ago had left him the sole heir to the Hutchinson family fortune.

Over twenty years ago, Hutch had turned his back on his heritage and his family name, choosing to forge his own destiny. It was a decision that had cost him his marriage and estranged him from his immediate family. He had dropped out of medical school and joined the police academy, another decision that did not set well with his overbearing parents.

Hutch entered his apartment and turned on the lamp on the end table beside the sofa. The cluttered apartment reflected its resident's neglect and indifference. Hutch shoved a pile of dirty clothes to one side and slumped down on the sofa, leaning his head back against the cushions and closing his eyes. He lifted his feet to rest on the scarred coffee table, ignoring the clatter of the empty bottle that fell to the floor. Soon, he slipped into a drunken slumber. It didn't take long for the dreams to follow.

_The alley was dark and filled with garbage. Hutch eased his way along the wall, his 357 magnum held in the ready position. He had lost sight of his partner, Detective David Starsky, some time ago and he fought to keep his irrational fear at bay. _

_Suddenly, several shots rang out in the darkness. Hutch felt the searing pain in his stomach that brought him to his knees in the dirt and garbage. Even as the darkness closed in around him, one name slipped from his lips "Starskyyyyy…."_

Hutch awoke with a start, his face covered with sweat, his body shaking uncontrollably. Stumbling to his feet, he staggered into the kitchen and rummaged through the cabinets until he found an unopened bottle of whiskey. Unscrewing the cap, he drank straight from the bottle. Even after almost ten years, the dreams still came with an alarming regularity, penetrating Hutch's carefully constructed defenses and leaving him reeling with renewed pain and grief.

Subconsciously, his hand reached down and rubbed at the long healed scar on his stomach from the bullets that had almost ended his life. His memories of that day were foggy at best. He had woke up in the hospital three weeks later to discover that his life had been altered forever. He was told that his partner and best friend was dead, murdered in that dingy alley, presumably by the same suspect who shot Hutch and left him for dead. The worst part was that Starsky had already been buried and Hutch hadn't been there to say his final goodbyes.

Hutch spent another two weeks in the hospital before being discharged. He had immediately demanded to see the official reports on his partner's murder. There were no clues and no leads to the person or persons responsible for Starsky's death. He had read the autopsy report carefully, blanching at the description of the three shots to the head and face that had resulted in his partner's death. The graphic photos included in the file had fueled Hutch's nightmares.

Consumed by guilt and grief, he had turned to the bottle to numb his mind and let the alcohol take control. He had been become obsessed with finding the person responsible by taking his partner away from him and spent every waking hour searching for Starsky's murderer. He had ignored proper police procedure and hunted down every scumbag that had ever threatened their lives over the years without finding any answers to the questions that haunted him.

Finally, Hutch was forced to give up his investigation and Starsky's case was officially closed. The bottle became his only solace and his constant companion. His friends were all worried about him but Hutch ignored their concern and their well meant advice. Without Starsky by his side, his life no longer meant anything to Hutch. He was nothing more than a shell of a man waiting for death to free him from his unbearable sense of loss and grief. More than once, he had thought about ending his own life but didn't have the guts to go through with it. So, he turned to his new best friend. The bottle.

Although he had managed to hold on to his job and had even been promoted to Lieutenant, the fire that had driven him was gone. As his drinking spiraled out of control, the police department could no longer ignore the problem. Their solution was to pull him off the streets and stick him behind a desk. Eventually, official reprimands and suspensions followed. Finally, Hutch was ordered into a treatment program. When he refused to go, he was fired from the department.

For several months after his dismissal, Hutch had lived off of a trust fund that his grandfather had left him. Then his father died and he had gained access to the Hutchinson family fortune. He had used part of his inheritance to start his own private investigations agency, specializing in finding missing persons. Hutch had hired two other employees and let them handle the day to day operations, rarely participating in any of the investigations himself. He was slowly drinking his life away and he didn't really give a damn.


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER TWO**

Brad Myers looked up from the file he was reviewing as the door to the office opened and Hutch came into the room. He sighed heavily. Hutch seldom bothered coming to the office anymore, usually checking in periodically by phone. The big blond's appearance had deteriorated drastically since the last time Brad had seen his employer. His clothes were wrinkled and there was a stain on the front of his blue shirt. His hair was badly in need of a trim and his beard covered his gaunt cheeks. His ice blue eyes were dull and lifeless, the eyes of a man who had given up on life a long time ago.

Brad had met Hutch years ago, when he was still considered a legend in the BCPD. As a young patrolman, Brad had been in awe of the legendary figure of Ken Hutchinson, one half of the most famous team of detectives the BCPD had ever known. He knew about the shooting that had claimed the life of Hutch's partner and left him a broken man with a drinking problem. The man's lingering grief was obvious to everyone around him.

Brad had watched as Hutch slowly went downhill, finally being dismissed from the force. By that time, Brad was disillusioned with the system and was more than willing to take a job with Hutch's agency when he heard that the big blond was looking for recruits. It was a career decision he had never regretted. He enjoyed the challenges of the job and, over the past two years, he had taken on most of the day to day running of the office. His former police partner, Shane Spencer, was still his partner working with him on the investigations. Most of their cases involved young runaways that their frantic families had hired them to locate. Both Shane and Brad got a great deal of satisfaction reuniting the runaways with their worried families.

"Hey, Hutch." Brad greeted the older man with a warm smile. Despite Hutch's problems, Brad still liked and admired the man. He had heard the stories of the unique bond that existed between Starsky and Hutch, stories about the almost psychic connection that they had shared. They had been closer then brothers, closer even than lovers, and Starsky's death had totally shattered Hutch.

"Hey, Brad." Hutch said, his voice sounding hoarse and ragged. His hands trembled noticeably as he helped himself to a cup of coffee from the pot sitting behind Brad's desk. "I just came from the bank. Looks like business has been good lately."

"Can't complain." Brad said with a grin. "The last two cases weren't that hard. We found one girl at an aunt's house in L.A. and the other kid was hanging out at a shelter in San Francesco. They were both more than ready to go back home."

"Working on anything new?" Hutch asked as he eased himself into a comfortable chair facing Brad. He took a cautious sip of his coffee and then set the cup aside with a grimace. "That crap tastes worse than the coffee in the squad room did." He muttered.

"Yeah, well, Alice hasn't been in yet today so Shane made it." Brad said with a chuckle. Alice was a former hooker that Hutch had known for years. On the streets she had been known as Sweet Alice, a nickname that fit her southern charm perfectly. When Hutch started the agency, he had hired Alice to work for him part time to get her off the streets. She had even gone back to school and taken some secretarial classes, becoming a real asset to the agency.

Brad shuffled through some papers lying on the desk in front of him and said, "This just came in this morning. This guy is looking for his sister who came to LA about three years ago and then just disappeared. The last time anyone heard from her, she was supposed to be starting a job as a model. Turns out the agency was a front for a prostitution ring that Vice broke up about a year ago. Nobody will admit to knowing the woman or hiring her. It's a cold trail but we'll give it our best shot." He paused and then continued, "And we're still looking for a missing sixteen year old that we managed to trace to Phoenix, Arizona."

Hutch nodded absently and shoved himself to his feet. Sometimes, he missed police work, being in the middle of the action and looking for the pieces of the puzzle, but he had complete faith in Brad and Shane. He couldn't have found two better men to handle the operation of the agency for him. In a lot of ways, they reminded him of himself and Starsky during their glory days on the force.

Too restless to sit still for long, Hutch wandered over to a bulletin board where pictures were posted of some of the runaways they were looking for. So many young faces and Hutch knew from bitter experience that some of them would never be found. Their families would be left to forever wonder what had happened to their missing children. Everyday, hundreds of runaways flocked to cities like LA, drawn by the glitter and the glammer, the empty promise of fame. Too many of them would end up in the hands of pimps who would use them and abuse them, then throw them away like so much garbage when they had outlived their usefulness or became too strung out on drugs to bring in enough money to support their habit. It was a vicious, never ending cycle.

In some small way, by specializing in finding missing persons, Hutch could still feel like his agency was making a difference and giving some of those missing children a second chance.

One picture in particular caught his eye. He was drawn to it by the vivid blue of the girl's eyes and he was immediately reminded of another set of vivid blue eyes that were forever branded in his heart. Starsky's eyes had been the true mirror to his soul, reflecting his moods. They could turn to blue flame when he was angry or a deep midnight blue when he was passionate about something. They could be mischievous, playful, or mysterious, just another facet of his complex personality. _God, he missed him and he would until the day he died!_

Hutch abruptly turned away from the bulletin board but not before Brad caught the shimmer of unshed tears in his eyes. Brad knew that sometimes the littlest things reminded Hutch of his partner and threw him into a deep depression, sending him to the nearest bar for a little liquid relief. Brad had seen pictures of Starsky and Hutch in their younger days and barely recognized the blond in the picture as the same blond he had come to know over the years. The only thing that remained the same was the ice blue eyes and the fair Nordic complexion. The hair was the same shade of blond but it was longer now and starting to thin badly.

Brad had quickly discovered that the subject of his former partner was strictly off limits with Hutch. His memories of Starsky were precious and carefully guarded, sealed away forever in his heart. There were only a few old friends who could bring up the brunet's name in Hutch's presence without risking a few choice words from the big blond.

"Who's going to Arizona to check out the sixteen year old?" Hutch asked

"I am." Brad told him "I always wanted to spend some time in the desert this time of year."

"Take plenty of water," Hutch said with a thin smile. "It sucks." With those parting words, he left the office.

Hutch drove thought the mid-day traffic to a bar and grill called The Pits. It was owned and operated by an old friend named Huggy Bear. Hutch and Huggy went back over twenty years. He had been one of Starsky and Hutch's best informants and good friend to them both. Huggy had actually gone to high school with Starsky and befriended the brunet when he moved to Bay City to live with his aunt and uncle. Starsky had been the one to introduce him to Hutch after they met at the police academy.

The bar hadn't changed much over the years. It still had a reputation for good food, low prices, and Huggy was diligent in keeping out the trouble makers. Huggy was busy working behind the bar when Hutch sauntered through the front door. Huggy was a tall, thin black man with a quick smile and cocky attitude. His taste in clothes had always been flamboyant and today was no exception. He was dressed in pair of neon green pants, a red silk shirt and a bright yellow vest.

Hutch settled onto a stool at the end of the bar with a heavy sigh. This place held a lot of memories, both good and bad. He had spent a lot of time here over the years with Starsky, shooting pool, drinking and picking up women. Hutch seldom stopped by anymore, seeing Starsky's ghost everywhere he turned whenever he did.

Huggy grinned happily as he sat a cold draft beer on the bar in front of Hutch. "Hey, Blondie," he said "Did you lose your razor or are you trying to start a new trend?"

"Good to see you too, Hug." Hutch replied "Even if you do look like a traffic light."

"How about a burger and fries to go with that beer?" Huggy suggested "On the house for an old friend." His eyes swept over Hutch's lean frame. It had been several months since he had seen his old friend and Hutch's weight loss was painfully noticeable.

"No, thanks." Hutch said "I'm not hungry." The truth was food held little interest to him these days. He got most of his nutrition from the empty calories in the booze. When he did eat, it was generally the junk food that Starsky had favored. The health shakes and wholesome foods Hutch used to eat where a thing of the past.

Huggy sighed, disappointed when Hutch refused his offer of free food. He worried about Hutch as he was forced to sit back and watch his slow decline after Starsky's murder. He had always known that if anything ever happened to one of them, the other one would fall apart. A man can't function with only half a heart. But, Huggy had been around long enough to know that nobody could help Hutch unless he wanted to be helped. The man was intent on committing suicide the hard way and nobody could do anything about it.

Hutch picked up his beer and relocated to an empty booth near the back of the room. Huggy returned to his other duties while keeping a close eye on his old friend. It was the least he could do. He owed it to Hutch and to Starsky's memory to watch out for the big blond as best he could.


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER THREE**

Two weeks later, Brad had returned from his trip to Arizona. He had tracked the missing runaway he was searching for to a Phoenix suburb called Mesa where he found her working as a dancer in a strip club. He tailed the girl for several days, finding out where she was living and taking several pictures of her both at work and in the neighborhood where she was living with her boyfriend. He would forward the information to the girl's parents and let them decide where they wanted to go from here. After making copies of the reports and the pictures, he put the originals in a packet to send to the girl's parents in San Diego.

He gave the girl's folder to Alice to file away. Juggling an armload of files, the girl's folder slipped from her fingers and fell to the floor, scattering pictures and papers on the floor.

"Shoot," she muttered as she sat the stack of files on the desk and bent down to collect the scattered contents of the other folder. "I've been dropping things all morning..."

"No sweat." Brad told her with a grin. "Just make sure you don't lose any of those pictures."

Alice smiled sweetly as she gathered up the papers and photos. She straightened up and began putting the material back into the file. Suddenly, she stopped, a strange look on her face as she stared at one of the pictures that she held in her hand. Alarmed by her startled expression, Brad said,

"Alice, are you okay?"

"What?" She said, turning to look at Brad blankly, the picture still clutched tightly in her hand.

"What's wrong, honey?" Brad asked in a concerned voice, taking in her pale face and her trembling hands.

"Oh, nothing." Alice said, hastily stuffing the picture she was holding back into the folder. "I guess my mind is just somewhere else today."

"You sure that's all it is?" Brad asked, not entirely satisfied with her answer.

"I'm sure." Alice assured him with a bright smile. "I better get these filed right away."

Brad nodded and shoved himself to his feet. Grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair, he said, "I'm on my way to meet Shane so we can go talk to a guy who thinks he saw one of our missing girls. I'll probably be gone most of the afternoon."

Alice nodded. "I'm gonna file these and then take off for the day if that's okay." She told him.

"Sure, go ahead. No problem." Brad told her as he left the office.

Once she was positive that Brad was gone, Alice grabbed the file on their latest case and took out the picture she had strategically placed on top of the pile. She squinted her eyes as she examined the picture more closely. It had been taken in the club where the girl was working as a dancer and showed her on stage strutting her stuff. But, that wasn't what had attracted Alice's attention. It was one of the faces in the crowd behind the stage that had intrigued her.

It was the profile of a man with short dark hair. The picture was grainy and the image wasn't clear, but something about the man's face looked vaguely familiar, familiar enough anyway to make Alice's heart race. She frowned as she looked at the picture. Suddenly, she smiled. She may not work the streets anymore but she still had some connections and people who owed her a favor. It was time to call in one of those favors.

Stuffing the photo in her shoulder bag, she left the office, locking the door carefully behind her. Thirty minutes later, she was entering a small photography studio in downtown Bay City. A skinny man with glasses was working behind the counter. He looked up as Alice entered and grinned broadly.

"Alice, baby," he cooed "Long time no see."

"Hi, Charlie." Alice said with a brilliant smile. "I need a little favor and I thought you could help me out."

"For you, darling, anything."

Alice pulled the picture out of her bag and handed it to him. "See that man in the crowd?" She said, pointing out the face in the picture that had caught her attention. "Can you blow it up for me so I can see his face better?"

"I don't know," Charlie said examining the picture closely. "Blowing it up probably isn't going to help much. His face isn't very clear to begin with."

"Can you do it for me anyway?"

"For you, baby, sure I can. It'll take me about an hour. You wanna wait or come back?"

"I'll just run down the street and grab a bite to eat and then come back." Alice said pleasantly, trying not to let her anxiety show.

"Okay. I'll get right on it." Charlie promised.

Alice nodded and left the shop. Her stomach fluttered nervously as she strolled down the street towards the tiny café on the corner. She knew what she was thinking was impossible but, despite her years on the streets, there was a part of Alice that still believed in miracles.

A little over an hour later, she returned to Charlie's shop and went inside. He smiled at her arrival and handed her the picture she had requested. "I told you I didn't think it would help much," he said in a disappointed voice "But, I did what you asked."

Alice took the new picture and looked at it closely. The image of the man's face was even more blurred than it had been in the original photo but she could clearly see the dark hair with just a hint of a curl at the nape of his neck and what could have been either a smudge or a mole on his left cheek.

"Thanks, Charlie." Alice said "I owe you one."

"Anytime, doll." Charlie said with a leer. "Too bad you're not a working girl anymore. I could take it out in trade."

Alice ignored his remark as she hurried out of the store. She had one more stop to make. She caught a bus at the corner and took it further downtown, getting off a couple of blocks from The Pits.

Since it was close to two in the afternoon, Huggy Bear and his staff was enjoying a mid afternoon lull in business before the supper crowd started coming in. Huggy grinned when he saw the petite blonde with the sunny disposition come in the door.

"Sweet Alice," he drawled in an exaggerated southern accent "To what do I owe the honor of this visit?"

"Can I talk to you…alone…" Alice said pointedly. "It's important."

"Sure. Let's go upstairs." Huggy suggested. He came out from behind the bar and lead the way to a hidden stairway at the end of the bar that led to the second floor of the building that housed the bar. At the top of the steps, Huggy opened the door to a tiny room that he kept for friends who needed a place to stay or who had drank too much to drive home and needed a place to crash for the night.

As he closed the door behind them, he looked at Alice with mild curiosity. "Okay, Alice. What's got you so worked up that you're acting like a long tailed cat in a room full of rockers?"

"Take a look at this and tell me what it looks like to you." Alice said, taking both pictures out of her bag and handing him the original picture first.

Huggy took the picture and examined it closely. In a confused voice he said, "It looks like some chick dancing to me."

Alice smiled faintly and pointed to the man's face in the crowd. "What about him? Does he look familiar to you?"

Huggy looked at the picture again, a deep frown creasing his face. "Don't know…can't really see much of his face." He said.

"Try taking a look at this one." Alice said as she handed him the blown up picture she'd had made.

Huggy took the second picture and looked at it intently. Shaking his head, he looked back at the tiny blonde and said, "You still can't really see the dude's face. What's this all about, Alice?"

"Take another look," Alice encouraged him. "Look close…and try to keep an open mind."

"I still don't see what you're getting at." Hutch said in a puzzled voice.

"Don't you think he looks like Starsky?" Alice said anxiously.

Huggy took another look at the picture and then at Alice. In a gentle voice, he said, "Honey, you know that's impossible. You were at his funeral…so was I."

"I know that." Alice said in an exasperated voice. "But it was a closed casket. How do you know it was really Starsky in there?"

"How do you know it wasn't?" Huggy countered smoothly. He reached out to cup Alice's face in his hand. "Baby, I know you'd like for the guy in this picture to be Starsky…hell, so would I. But, it's not. It can't be. He's been dead for almost ten years. Where did you get this picture anyway?"

"Brad went to Phoenix looking for a runaway…that's the girl in the picture. He found her dancing in a club in a suburb of Phoenix called Mesa." Alice explained patiently. She looked at Huggy somberly. "What do you think Hutch is going to do if he sees that picture?"

"He'll go off on another wild goose chase looking for a ghost that doesn't exist." Huggy said with a snort.

"Exactly and he'll come back even worse than he is now when he finds out that this guy isn't Starsky."

"So what's going on in that devious little mind of yours?" Huggy asked cautiously.

"Well…I thought maybe we could take a little road trip and find out for ourselves." Alice said persuasively. "Then when this guy turns out not to be Starsky, I'll destroy this picture and the negative and Hutch will never even know they existed."

"Girl, are you crazy?" Huggy said "I can't just pick up and go to Phoenix on a wild goose chase."

"Then I'll go by myself." Alice isaid in a fiercely, determined voice. "But, either way, I'm going to find out who this man is."

"Yeah, and Hutch would have my ass in a sling if he ever found out that I let you do something like that by yourself." Huggy grumbled.

"Does that mean you'll go with me?" Alice asked with a sly smile.

"Somebody has to stop you from barging in there half cocked and getting yourself arrested for invading this guy's privacy." Huggy told her with a disgruntled grunt.

"Terrific! When can we leave?" Alice said in an excited voice.

"Give me a couple of days to set things up with Diana and Anita to keep an eye on the bar." Huggy said in a defeated voice. "We'll leave Thursday morning. Is that good enough for you?"

"Good enough. I'll see you Thursday morning." Alice said with a bright, relieved smile. She gave Huggy a quick kiss on the cheek and left the room, hurrying down the steps and exiting the bar. Although she knew that this trip could very well be nothing but a wild goose chase, something deep inside was telling her that she had to do this. She had to find the man in the picture.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER FOUR**

Two days later, Alice and Huggy were on their way to Mesa, Arizona. Alice had arranged to take a few days off using the excuse that she was visiting an aunt who was ill. She hated lying to Brad and Shane but she knew if she told them where she was really going and why, they would try to talk her out of it.

Alice had always had a soft spot in her heart for her 'handsome Hutch' even though she knew that he'd never reciprocate her advances. She'd felt his pain almost as acutely as he did after Starsky had been murdered. She had watched him change over the years, as he slowly destroyed himself in his grief. If it had been within her power to take away his pain, she would have done it, no matter what it took. That was why she had to check out the man in the picture. In her heart, she knew it couldn't really be Starsky in the picture, but she had to be sure. There was something about the man's face that she just couldn't get out of her mind.

"So," Huggy said as he drove along the interstate towards Arizona. "You got any idea how to find this guy once we get there?"

"I don't know." Alice admitted "I guess we'll just have to go to the bar where Brad found the girl working and show some people the picture and see if anybody knows who he is."

"And what if that doesn't work?"

"I don't know…I guess if we don't find him that way, then we'll have to go back home."

"What? You expect us to come all this way and then just give up like that if we don't find him right away?" Huggy said in a surprised voice.

"Well, do you have any better ideas?" Alice demanded in a flustered voice.

"Maybe," Huggy assured her with a wide grin. "I happen to have a cousin who lives in Phoenix and he might be able to help us find our mysterious friend in the picture."

"How?"

"It's probably better if you don't know all the details." Huggy smirked "Let's just say that he has ways of finding people that don't necessarily want to be found."

"I knew there was a reason that I wanted you to come along with me." Alice said with a giggle. Truthfully, she was grateful for the black man's company on this little trip.

He was one of the few people who had never looked down on her or treated her any differently when she was working as a hooker. Huggy was a valued friend to the unfortunate people who lived on the street. He was always there when they needed help with a free meal, a few bucks or even a place to stay for the night.

It was early evening when they finally arrived at their destination. Huggy had arranged for them to stay at the home the cousin that he had mentioned earlier. Huggy's vast network of relatives scattered all over the United States came in handy at times.

They spent a quiet, relaxing evening resting up from their long drive. They planned to visit the bar where Brad had found the missing girl the following afternoon. Even though she had just met Huggy's cousin, with her natural charm and southern hospitality, Alice fit right in. It was the same charm that made her so popular with her clients when she was working the streets.

The next morning, Alice made them all an old fashioned southern breakfast which went over well with the two men who appreciated her thoughtfulness and kindness. Over their bjections, afterwards, she insisted on washing the dishes and tidying up the kitchen. Alice's parents had raised her to repay a kindness with a kindness and it made her happy to being doing simple domestic chores in exchange for a place to stay while she was in town.

That afternoon, Huggy drove to a little club called _The Rebel Rose_ on the edge of town. Since it had only been open for a few minutes when they arrived, there was nobody there that early in the day except for the staff on duty. It didn't take them long to show all the dancers and waitresses the picture of the man in the picture but, unfortunately, none of the employees seemed to know who he was. One girl said that she remembered him coming in a couple of times in the past but, not very often and she didn't know his name. She said that he was always polite and she remembered that he was a good tipper but that was all she knew. Although Alice was disappointed, she wasn't ready to give up yet. Maybe Huggy's cousin would have better luck.

"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all," Alice said in a discouraged voice as they walked back to Huggy's white Cadillac.

"Don't give up hope yet." Huggy said firmly as he turned on the engine and backed out of the parking lot. "I'm sure Curtis will come up with something."

When they returned to his cousin's house, they were happy to discover that Curtis had indeed come up with some useful information. Huggy glanced at the slip of paper his cousin handed him and read aloud, "His name is Mitch Conners and he lives at 3307 Arrowhead Drive Apartment 4 B." Huggy skimmed through the rest of the information and then continued, "He's lived here for the past four years and he works for some sort of consulting firm. " Huggy frowned as he read the rest of the notes his cousin had jogged down for them. "Other than that, nobody seems to know much about him at all. He's single, doesn't seem to have a steady girlfriend and keeps to himself."

"When can we go see him?" Alice asked anxiously.

"No time like the present." Huggy said, almost as anxious to meet the mystery man as Alice was. Thanking his cousin for his help, they left the house and climbed back into Huggy's car. After a couple of wrong turns, Huggy finally found the address on the paper.

It was a two story building with a walled in courtyard. Each apartment had a separate outside entrance with a covered breezeway leading up to the second floor of the building. Apartment 4 B was on the second story. Huggy and Alice climbed the steps to the step floor balcony and easily located the correct apartment. Huggy knocked on the door and waited for a minute before knocking again, louder and more insistently. There was still no answer.

"Damn," Alice muttered when she realized the man they were looking for didn't seem to be at home. "What should we do now?"

"Well," Huggy said slowly "We could come back later or…since we're already here…we could let ourselves in and take a little look around." He looked around furtively to make sure nobody was watching them and then pulled a small slender tool out of his jacket. He looked at Alice with a grin and whispered, "Don't ask." Within seconds, he had picked the lock on the door and had it open. He and Alice quickly ducked inside and closed the door behind them.

Alice stood in the middle of the sparsely furnished living room and looked around. There were no pictures on the walls, no books or magazines lying on the coffee table and no dirty dishes visible in the tiny kitchenette. The apartment didn't even look lived in. It was too neat, too clean and too sterile looking. A quick detour into the bedroom and adjoining bathroom showed them to be just as clean and immaculate as the rest of the apartment. Alice looked at Huggy with a sad expression in her soft blue eyes.

"This place doesn't even look like anybody lives here." She said softly. "The poor guy must not have much of a life."

"Something ain't right." Huggy said with a shake of his head. "Like you said, either this guy doesn't have much of a life or he's hiding from something."

"What makes you think that?" Alice asked in a puzzled tone.

"Look at it this way, he doesn't have much to pack if he decides to leave in a hurry."

"You got that right." Alice said, taking another glance around the apartment. She felt an overwhelming sense of sorrow for the man who lived here. Everybody needed somebody in their life they could count on and this guy didn't seem to have anyone.

Even during her darkest days out on the streets of Bay City, Alice always knew that she had friends she could turn to. She looked back at Huggy Bear and smiled "So what now?"

Before Huggy had a chance to answer her question, the front door slammed open and a deep voice growled menacingly, "What the fuck are you doing in my apartment?"

Huggy and Alice turned their gaze towards the doorway and found themselves staring down the barrel of a gun pointed straight at them and being held by a very angry man.


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER FIVE**

Alice and Huggy both stared at the man, momentarily too stunned to say a word. The man's eyes were hidden behind the dark sunglasses he wore, but, Alice's gaze was drawn to the unmistakable moles visible on his face, one low on his left cheek and a second one just below his right eye. In a gruff voice, he repeated his question, "What the fuck are you doing in my apartment?"

"Starsky…sugar…" Alice said in a trembling voice, speaking the man's name first. "Please put down the gun…you wouldn't want to shoot a couple of old friends now would you?"

"Starsky...my man…it is you…" Huggy stammered, his own voice trembling with barely repressed emotion. His knees felt weak as if he was about to collapse and his heart was pounding in his chest.

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about." The man snarled "My name is Conners. Mitch Conners. I don't know anybody named Starsky." He kept the gun pointed at them but Alice noticed the trembling in his hands. Taking a hesitant step forward, she reached out and gently touched his left arm.

Smiling tenderly, she said in a gentle, soothing voice, "Its okay, Sugar. Put down the gun and then we can talk."

She felt the man's fear and sensed his hesitation. He slowly lowered the gun to his side and bowed his head but not before Alice saw a single tear slip down his cheek. Instinctively, Alice reached out and pulled the man in front of her into a heartfelt hug. The man's body tensed momentarily and then relaxed in her embrace as his resistance crumbled. The gun fell to the floor with a thud as he wrapped his arms around her tightly and buried his head against her shoulder, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Alice simply stood there, holding on, as he struggled to regain his composure.

Finally, he pulled away and straightened up to his full height. In a shaky voice, he said, "What are the two of you doing here? How did you find me?"

Easing one arm around his waist, Alice slowly guided him over to the sofa and helped him to sit down. She sat down beside him and smiled at him warmly. She reached out and gently cupped his cheek in her hand, whispering softly "It's okay, baby…just relax." He flinched but didn't resist when she reached out and slowly removed the sunglasses, tossing them on the coffee table in front of the sofa. She smiled when she saw those vivid blue eyes that she remembered so well. "It's so good to see you again, darling…" she drawled.

"Man," Huggy said in a shaky voice "I could sure use a drink. It's not everyday I have one of my best friends come back from the dead."

"There's beer in the fridge," Starsky said in a quiet, subdued voice with a feeble attempt at a smile. Alice could feel the fine tremors that were still running through his bunched up muscles. She took the time to look at her old friend closely. His hair was cut short, almost in a military style, but there were still tiny curls at the nape of his neck. It was still the same rich shade of brown that she remembered with just a touch of gray at the temples. And there was no way he could hide those vivid blues eyes or that crooked smile that she remembered so well.

Other than the haircut, he still looked pretty much the same. He still had the same lean muscular build and olive toned complexion. He had put on a few extra pounds around the middle but on him it still looked good. He was even dressed the way she remembered in a pair of faded blue jeans that left very little to the imagination and a black tee shirt with a lightweight jacket. There were tiny lines around the edges of his mouth and the corners of his eyes that hadn't been there before but they added character to his face. He was still a ruggedly handsome man that most women would love to get to know better.

Huggy walked into the tiny kitchenette and pulled three beers out of the refrigerator. Walking back over to the sofa, he handed one to Alice and one to Starsky, keeping the third one for himself. He slouched down in a chair facing the sofa and looked at his old friend, still trying to get over his shock at actually finding him still alive.

Starsky opened his beer and took a long swallow, draining half the can in one long gulp. He smiled sheepishly and said, "I guess I owe you both an explanation." He repeated his earlier question, "How did the two of you find me anyway?"

"It was simply by accident. One of our investigators was down here looking for a missing girl who happened to be dancing at that bar on the edge of town. He took some pictures of her at the club and you just happened to be in the background in one of them and I saw it." Alice explained. "I wasn't even sure it was you…I mean, you are supposed to be dead, but I had to find out for sure."

"One of your investigators?" Starsky repeated in a puzzled voice.

"Oh, I'm sorry, baby," Alice said apologetically "I forget you don't know what's been going on back home in the past few years. Hutch started a private investigations firm a couple of years ago. He hired two ex-cops to work for him and gave me a job too. I finally cleaned up my act and got off the streets."

"Hutch isn't a cop anymore?" Starsky asked in a stunned voice.

"No, sugar, he isn't. He hasn't been for almost four years." She glanced at Huggy, wondering just how much she should reveal to Starsky about Hutch's present condition. She was relieved when Huggy decided to take over that part of the explanation.

"Man, Blondie fell apart when he thought you were dead. Nobody could get through to him. He crawled inside a bottle and forgot how to climb back out. Captain Dobey covered for him as long as he could but finally it got so bad that the department let him go when he refused to go to treatment."

"It's all my fault," Starsky whispered in a ragged voice. "I should never have kept running. I should have come back when I had the chance."

"Honey, can you tell us what happened?" Alice asked, gently rubbing his back with the palm of her hand. "We just want to understand why you let everyone believe that you were dead all these years."

"Yeah, and who the hell did we bury instead of you?" Huggy demanded gruffly.

"I don't know whose body they found in the alley that day…" Starsky said somberly. "I don't even know how they managed to set up everything up to make it look like it was me."

"Who?" Huggy demanded

"The Feds." Starsky said bitterly. "The fucking feds were behind everything." He shoved himself to his feet and began pacing the room restlessly. Alice and Huggy watched him, waiting for him to continue. "A few days before Hutch and I got pinned down in that alley, a couple of feds paid me a visit. They said they had inside information that Gunther's son was after me…that he intended to finish the job his father started and make sure it was done right this time. They wanted to put me in protective custody until they could find him and arrest him but I refused. I told them to stuff it…if I was going to buy it, then I was going buy it doing my job. I wasn't going to hide from anybody." Both Alice and Huggy smiled faintly. They both could just imagine the choice words Starsky had used to get that point across. "I never told Hutch about their visit because I knew it would just freak him out. He'd have drug me off somewhere in handcuffs himself to make I was safe." Starsky sighed heavily; his eyes darkening as the memories came flooding back. His voice became strained as he continued. "I don't remember much about that day in the alley. I remember getting separated from Hutch and then getting hit over the head with something. Next thing I know I'm waking up in some private hospital with a bunch of feds telling me that I'm in protective custody." He smiled thinly. "They even had me handcuffed to the bed so I couldn't try to escape. I found out later that they had kept me drugged and unconscious for over a month." His pacing increased as he kept talking. "Finally, one of them came in and told me that I was being put in the witness protection program for my own good. He said that everybody back home thought that I was dead and buried, just another cop killed in the line of duty. He even showed me newspaper articles about my murder."

Starsk sighed heavily and paused to collect his thoughts. "I started cussing him out and telling him that he couldn't force me to do anything. So, they drugged me up some more. They kept me in that place for almost six months I fought the m every chance I got." He bowed his head and angrily wiped away a tear. "I knew that Hutch…my ma…everybody I cared about had to be going through hell…especially Hutch. I had to get out of there. I had to let them know that I wasn't dead..." Starsky slumped back down on the sofa and buried his face in his hands as he relived his own nightmare. It was several minutes before he went on with his story.

"Finally, one day, one of them got careless and I managed to get away. I got hold of a gun and I ran. I found out that they had me in hid out in some little town in New Jersey, so I decided to head for New York first. I was going to tell Ma and Nicky that I was still alive." Starsky's eyes flooded with tears and his voice cracked as he went on. "But, I never got a chance to. When I got to New York, I tried calling Ma and this man answered the phone…he said that he was cop and that Ma and Nicky were both dead, that somebody had broke into the house and murdered them in their sleep. I hung up before he could ask me too many questions." The tears began to fall unnoticed down his cheeks and Huggy felt a lump in his own throat at the tragedy unfolding in Starsky's story.

"I knew they were dead because of me. I didn't know if the Feds did it because I got away from them or if Gunther was behind it…either way it didn't matter. I knew it was all my fault and I couldn't take a chance on having anybody die because of me. It was better if David Starsky stayed dead and buried. So, I just kept running." He took a deep, shuddering breath and exhaled slowly, struggling to keep from breaking down. "And the longer I ran, the easier it became to forget who I was really was."

"Oh, sugar…" Alice said, breaking down in tears herself. "I'm so sorry. That must have been so horrible for you. All these years wasted…"

"Jumping at shadows," Huggy added "Wondering who's going to find you first…the Feds or Gunther."

Starsky looked at Huggy with a thin smile. "I thought about eating a bullet more than once but I just never had the guts to do it. Then, four years ago, I got tired of running and ended up here. That's when Mitch Conners was born. I found this place, got me a job with this company that does some consulting with Police departments all over the country and tried to fool myself into believing that I could pull it off. But, I couldn't let myself get too close to anyone…that was too dangerous. They'd start asking questions that I didn't have any answers to. All I know is…the Feds and Gunther are both still out there and, as far as I know, they're both still looking for me."

"Seems to me that the real question here is what do you want to do?" Huggy asked "Do you want to keep hiding for the rest of your life, looking over your shoulder, waiting for one of them to find you like we did? Or do you want to come back to Bay City with us and let your friends help you put an end to this thing once and for all?"

"No matter what I do, I'm fucked." Starsky said quietly. "If I stay here, somebody else will find me sooner or later. If I go back, I'd still be putting everybody around me in danger…I can't take that chance…"

"Then don't come back for yourself…come back for Hutch." Alice said softly. "He needs you…he's never stopped missing you. He's been killing himself a little bit each day since you've been gone. And I'm really scared…I don't think he's gonna be around much longer if he keeps it up."

"I can't…how am I supposed to face him after all these years?" Starsky cried in a strangled voice, dangerously close to the edge himself. "How am I supposed to tell him that I let him go on believing that I was dead…that I didn't have the guts to tell him the truth?"

"Baby, Hutch loves you…he's always loved you, just like you've always loved him. He'll understand when he hears the whole story." Alice told him.

"He'll hate me." Starsky whispered in a broken voice that tore at Alice's heart.

"And I couldn't live with that…"

"Hutch could never hate you." Alice reassured him. "But, it's time to stop running. It's time to do what you've always done best…find the bad guys and put them away before they can hurt anybody else."

"I don't know if I can…" He gave Alice and Huggy a half-hearted smile. "I have to think…and I can't do that with you two here."

"We'll leave on one condition." Huggy told him gruffly. "Give me your word that you'll still be here when we come back…that you won't run again."

"I can't do that, Hug…" Starsky said with brutal honesty. "I can't make you a promise that I'm not sure I can keep…"

"Fair enough," Alice said, raising her hand to silence Huggy's objections. "But, if you run…then we're going to tell Hutch everything when we get back home and then he's gonna be coming after you and you know that he'll never stop looking until he finds you."

"That's blackmail." Starsky grumbled, glaring at the petite blonde.

"You bet it is, Sugar." Alice said, as she shoved herself to her feet. She smiled and brushed her lips across Starsky's brow. "And if that isn't enough to keep you from taking off again, then I don't know what else to do."

Huggy and Alice walked to the door, pausing to give Starsky one more glance before they left. He was sitting on the couch with his face buried in his hands and more vulnerable than either of them had ever seen him before. As they climbed down the stairs to the parking lot, Alice looked at Huggy and said in a worried voice, "Do you think he'll still be here when we come back?"

"I don't know. He's pretty shaky right now." Huggy said. He sighed heavily and took a pair of sunglasses out of his shirt pocket. "I'm not sure we did him any favors by telling how Hutch has been handling things since he's been gone."

"He needed to know." Alice said "That's the only thing that might convince him to come back with us."

"I sure as hell hope that's what he decides to do. I'd hate to have to go back home and tell Hutch about this." Huggy said dryly.

"Me too." Alice said. "He'd kill both of us for not telling him before we came out here so he could come with us."

"I guess all we can do is give Starsky some time to work things out in his head and hope to God that he stays put."

"I'm gonna be praying on it all night." Alice said

"Me too," Huggy said with a heavy sigh. "Let's just hope the big man upstairs is up to listening."


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER SIX**

After Alice and Huggy left his apartment, Starsky began pacing the confines of his space, tormented by his memories. Too many years on the run, trusting no one, had left him paranoid and suspicious. The unexpected arrival of two friends from his past had shaken him badly and he knew that he had to make some hard decisions. Momentarily, he had let his guard down and now he was having second thoughts. He knew that he had revealed too much information to Huggy and Alice. Inadvertently, he may have placed them in danger too.

Noticing the .38 automatic still lying on the floor where he had dropped it earlier, he bent down and picked it up. The familiar weight of the weapon fit comfortably in his hand. With a heavy sigh, he sank down on the sofa, staring at the gun in his hand. It would so easy to just give up, to end it all right now. It wasn't the first time that the idea of killing himself had crossed his mind. And it wasn't the first time that he had seriously considered it.

After his mother and Nicky had been murdered in their sleep, he had come dangerously close to pulling the trigger. But, in the end, he just couldn't do it. His will to live was stronger than any death wish he might have had. The years of running from his past had taken their toll. He was tired. Tired of running, tired of hiding, tired of the life he had been living. But, there were still men out there who wanted him dead and he refused to put anyone else he cared about in danger because of his own shortcomings.

With a muffled curse, Starsky laid the gun down on the coffee table and shoved himself to his feet, resuming his frantic pacing. He thought about the things that Alice and Huggy had told him about Hutch's steady decline in alcoholism since Starsky's alleged murder. One more thing to blame himself for. It felt as if he hurt everyone in his life that he let get too close to him. In the end, they always ended up leaving him in one way or another. But, at least Hutch was still alive. That had been Starsky's biggest fear that Hutch would have given in to his suicidal impulses when he believed that Starsky was dead. A bitter smile twisted the brunet's lips. In a way, that's exactly what Hutch had done. Over the past nine years, more than once, Starsky had crawled into a bottle to help him forget.

Finally, Starsky stopped pacing and squared his shoulders. He had made his decision. Walking into the bathroom, he grabbed his shaving kit and personal hygiene items from the medicine cabinet. Glancing up, he caught his reflection in the mirror and paused, staring at the face of a stranger that he was no longer sure he knew. He hurried back into his bedroom before he changed his mind and pulled open the closet, jerking his clothes off the hangers, tossing shirts and jeans on the bed. He grabbed a ragged duffle bag from an overhead shelf in the closet and began stuffing it full of clothes.

When he had finished packing, he knelt down beside the bed and used his pocket knife to pry open a loose floorboard. Reaching into the sub-flooring, he pulled out an envelope stuffed with money, money Starsky had been hiding in case of an emergency. He took the money out of the envelope and stuffed it into a hidden pocket in the duffle bag.

Walking back into the living room, he dug his keys out of his jeans and tossed them on the coffee table. He wouldn't be needing them anymore. Glancing around the room, Starsky felt a pang of regret at leaving behind the life he had built here. It may have been a lonely existence without any friends, but it had been the closest thing to a normal life that he'd led since this whole nightmare began.

He had no doubt that Huggy and Alice would return to Bay City and tell Hutch everything, which meant it wouldn't be long before the big blond would be on his trail. He sighed heavily. He knew that Hutch would never give up looking for him once he found out that Starsky was still alive. But, he was too afraid of coming out of hiding. He had carried the guilt for his mother and Nicky's murder all these years and, even now, not a day went by that he didn't think of them and blame himself because they were dead. If anything ever happened to Hutch because of him, Starsky knew that he would never be able to live with that.

Starsky picked up the .38 automatic and carefully tucked it under his waistband in the middle of his back where it would be hidden by his jacket. Slinging the strap on the duffle bag over his shoulder, he took a deep breath and opened the door, slipping out into the early morning darkness. With any luck, he would have several hours head start before anyone realized that he was gone. He had no particular destination in mind, running for so long had taught him that it was better that way. He turned his steps towards the highway that led out of town.

Since it was almost two in the morning, there wasn't much traffic on the road but Starsky didn't care. He knew that sooner or later someone would come along who would give him a ride. With determined steps, he began walking down the highway, never noticing the tears that were drying on his face.

He had been walking for almost an hour when he heard the distinctive sound of an eighteen wheeler approaching from behind him. He stopped and turned, shading his eyes against the glare of the semi's headlights. He heard the sound of the airbrakes as the driver pulled to a stop. The driver leaned over and opened the door on the passenger's side, grinning down at Starsky.

"Need a lift?" he drawled in a broad accent.

"Yeah. Thanks." Starsky said as he grabbed the handle on the side of the rig and climbed inside the cab. Settling into the seat, he glanced at the face of the driver. He was a big man with tattoos on both arms and a belly that hung over his belt. His face was tanned and lined with deep wrinkles with eyes that were intelligent and alert.

"Where you headed?" the man asked

"Anywhere you are." Starsky said evasively.

The driver didn't ask any more questions, he simply shifted into gear and pulled back on the road. "My name's Sam." He said in a friendly tone. "And I can take you as far as El Paso."

"I'm Mike." Starsky said, giving an abbreviated version of his middle name. "And El Paso will be fine."

Starsky leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes, pretending to doze off. He felt himself mentally shutting down, erecting a wall around his emotions and his memories. It was a survival mechanism he had learned during his time in Viet Nam and it had served him well over the years. Still, it was hard to ignore the lump that seemed to be lodged in his throat and the pain in his chest where his heart used to be. He felt like crying, something he thought that he had forgotten how to do. As the semi rolled down the highway, Mitch Conners slowly faded into the distance and Mike Alexander was born.


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TWO TALKING ABOUT?" Hutch bellowed, wincing as the sound of his own yelling cut through his head like a knife. "STARSKY'S FUCKING DEAD AND YOU KNOW IT!" He tossed the photograph Alice had handed him to the top of the desk and glared at the petite blonde and the tall, thin black man. "THAT COULD BE ANYBODY!"

"Hutch, darling," Alice said in a slow, soothing drawl "It is Starsky. Huggy and I both saw him…we talked to him…"

"No…" Hutch said, shaking his head slowly from side to side as the color drained from his face and his voice dropped to a whisper. He shoved himself to his feet and staggered backwards until he collided with the wall. Alarmed by the look on his face, Alice jumped to her feet and reached out towards him but Hutch waved her away, shaking his head violently, warning her not to touch him.

"Hey, Blondie," Huggy said in a worried voice "I think you better sit back down before you fall down…"

"How could you?" Hutch growled in a cold, deadly voice, his 'cop' voice, the one that intimidated the most hardened criminal. Although he kept his voice low and carefully controlled, his tone sent a chill down Alice's spine. It was obvious that the big blond was outraged and using all of his faltering will power to keep from exploding. "You're supposed to be my friends! Some fucking friends! You should have told me the truth from the beginning! I should have been with you! If I had been there, then I could have made Starsky come back!" His eyes narrowed dangerously, "Now, thanks to you two, he's still out there somewhere!"

"I needed to be sure before we said anything to you!" Alice said defensively, tears shimmering in her gentle blue eyes. "I didn't want you to get your hopes up and then have it turn not to be Starsky. I was only trying to protect you!"

"I DON'T NEED ANYBODY PROTECTING ME! I NEED STARSKY!" Hutch yelled. His voice cracked on his former partner's name and his knees buckled. He slowly sank to the floor in a crumbled heap, his face a mask of such despair that it broke Alice's tender heart. She rushed to his side and knelt down beside the trembling man, gently reaching out to cradle him in her arms.

Hutch's body stiffened, resisting her touch, and pushed her away. "Leave me alone…" he snapped "I don't need your or your pity!" He saw the devastated look in Alice's eyes but he was helpless to stop the hateful words that tumbled from his lips. "I don't need either one of you! You're not my friends! GET OUT! GET OUT!"

Huggy gently helped Alice to her feet and looked down at his old friend sadly. "We go back a long way, Hutch…and I know you're hurting right now...but if you wanna find Starsky, you're gonna need all the help you can get…you can't do it on your own…not this time…" Slipping a comforting arm around Alice's shoulders, he led her from the room, quietly shutting the door behind them.

After they were gone, Hutch stumbled to his feet and grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the wet bar. Twisting off the cap, he took a long swallow straight from the bottle, feeling the familiar warmth as the alcohol slid down his throat. He needed something to smooth out the edges so he could think. With a trembling hand, he picked up the discarded picture and looked at the face of the man in the crowd. "Starsk?" he whispered in a subdued voice "Oh, Babe…is it really you?"

He wanted desperately to believe the story that Huggy and Alice had told him. In his heart, he knew they would never lie to him, not about something like this but, so many years of heavy drinking, mourning the loss of his other half and being alone had left him suspicious and mistrustful. In the early months following Starsky's alleged murder, he had followed every lead, no matter how slim, trying to find the men responsible for taking his partner and best friend away from him. Unable to say his own goodbye, he had turned to the bottle for solace and comfort. Now, he no longer knew how to function without a certain level of alcohol in his system. Suddenly, after all these years, he had a goal, a reason to go on, a purpose in life. He would find his missing partner, he would find Starsky, or he would die trying.

Hutch stared at the bottle in his hand, the bottle that had taken over his life, and scowled. He had to sober up so he could think like a cop again, so he could think like Starsky. It was the only chance he had of finding him, especially if Starsky didn't want to be found. With a grim determination, Hutch screwed the cap back on the bottle and put it away. His mind was still reeling from the shock he had received but, somewhere deep inside, his heart was rejoicing, the shattered pieces fusing back together again inside his chest.

A damn burst inside of the big blond, as emotions he had kept carefully locked inside of him bubbled to the surface. Grabbing the first thing he could get his hands on, he threw it across the room. Systematically, with a single-minded intent, he began to destroy his apartment. By the time he had finished trashing his possessions, he was exhausted, both mentally and physically. Slouching down in a corner of the room, he drew his knees up to his chest, wrapped his arms around his shins and began to cry.

Once the tears started, he couldn't stop, weeping for all the years he had lost, all the pain and suffering he had gone through without his best friend at his side.

The next three days were a blur as Hutch began to suffer from the symptoms of alcohol withdrawal, his body drenched with sweat, his muscles cramping and trembling, as the booze worked its way out of his system. The urge to take a drink was overwhelming, but Hutch resisted the temptation. He wasn't doing this just for his own sake; he was doing it for Starsky. He had to conquer his own demons before he would be of any use to his missing friend.

As his mind became more focused and his thoughts cleared, Hutch knew that he owed Alice and Huggy an apology for his behavior. He knew that they had only been trying to help by checking out their theory before telling him their suspicions about the man in the picture. The idea that Starsky was really alive was still almost unbelievable, a true miracle in Hutch's eyes.

Another three days passed before Hutch finally called Alice, Huggy, Brad and Shane and asked them all to meet him at his apartment at noon. Alice and Huggy arrived first. They were both surprised by Hutch's appearance when he opened the door to let them in. He was clean shaven, his hair neatly trimmed and styled. He looked like the Hutch they had known ten years ago, instead of the disheveled wreak of a man he had become since losing Starsky. His eyes were bright and alert, the innate intelligence of the man shining through.

"Sugar, you look wonderful!" Alice said, giving Hutch a heartfelt hug and a kiss on the cheek. Hutch's cheeks turned pink with embarrassment. He was no longer accustomed to such open displays of affection from anyone. He had spent the last ten years pushing people away and keeping them at a distance. It was going to take some time to get used to interacting with people again.

Huggy grinned broadly and clasped Hutch on the shoulder. "Alice is right, man." He said "You look great. Welcome back, bro…"

"Thanks, guys." Hutch said with a sincere smile that lit up his face. "I'm glad you two got here first. I owe you both a big apology for the way I acted when you told me about Starsky."

"It's okay. We know it was a big shock." Alice said "It was a shock for us too."

"You bet it was." Huggy said with a snort. "I thought we were going on a wild goose chase. I almost had a heart attack when I saw Starsky standing there pointing a gun at us." Hutch smiled faintly at the image that sprang to mind. The smile faded from his face as he said wistfully,

"I wish you could have convinced him to come back with you."

"He's scared…he's been running for a long time." Alice pointed out "He doesn't know how to stop."

"I'm sure that you two showing up out of the blue didn't help things any." Hutch said somberly. "I can't believe that the feds did something like that to him…to all of us…"

Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Shane and Brad. Hutch motioned for everyone to have a seat and then proceeded to fill Shane and Brad in on what had happened in the past few weeks. They were both stunned to find out that David Starsky was still alive.

"What do you need us to do, Hutch?" Brad asked

"We need to handle this just like we'd handle any other investigation…except this time, I'm the primary investigator." Hutch said. He looked at Shane. "Shane, I need you to find out everything you can about the murders of Rachel and Nicholas Starsky in Brooklyn, New York approximately eight years ago." He looked at Brad "Brad, I need for you to see what you can find out about Mitch Conners and his life for the past four years in Mesa, Arizonia."

"What about us?" Alice asked, anxious to help in any way she could to reunite the two former partners.

"I need you two to use your old contacts on the street and see what you can find out about Starsky's alleged murder and all the information you can dig up on Gunther's son."

"You got it." Huggy said "What are you going to do when you get all this information?"

"Find Starsky." Hutch said with a thin smile "Even if the son of a bitch doesn't want to be found."


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

**  
**Starsky pulled up the color on his leather jacket, trying to ignore the rain that dripped from his hair down the back of his neck. The trucker had let him out in El Paso where he stayed for the night but, he hit the road again the next morning. He had to keep moving, it was too dangerous to stay in one place for very long. He had learned that lesson the hard way a long time ago. A bitter smile tugged at his mouth, he had stayed too long in Mesa. It had been too easy to slip into a 'normal' life and forget why he was running and pretending to be someone he wasn't. He wouldn't make that mistake again.

He had caught a ride earlier that had taken him almost fifty miles before dropping him off in the middle of no where. He had been walking for over three hours and hadn't seen another car in that entire time. Then it started to rain, only adding to his discomfort. The rapidly darkening sky was accompanied by a distinct drop in the temperature. Sapphire eyes scanned the horizon, searching for some sort of shelter to wait out the storm.

A heavily wooded area on his left seemed to be his only option. Turning, his weary steps in that direction, he headed towards the trees. It was still wet underneath the cover of the foliage, but at least he was out of the worst of the rain and the wind. He moved deep into the woods before finally stopping. He quickly unpacked the small tent he had bought in El Paso and began setting it up. Reluctantly, he let his mind drift back to another time and another place.

Hutch had always loved camping and fishing. Starsky had always complained and whined whenever Hutch dragged him along on one of his 'nature retreats'. He had never told Hutch that he was actually more comfortable in the woods than he let on. He may have been raised a city boy, but two years in the jungles of Viet Nam had taught him how to survive on his own in a tropical forest. Those survival skills had been tested more than once over the years when he was on the run.

Once the tent was set up, he climbed inside and zipped the screened front flap shut. Spreading his sleeping bag out on the floor of the tent, he laid down on the soft down comforter to rest his weary body. He was exhausted but he knew sleep would be elusive. His every sense was heightened, ever vigilant to any signs of danger. The rain pounding on the roof of the tent was comforting in an odd sort of way. The inclement weather would help to protect his hiding place from curious eyes.

He lay there as darkness fell, his mind drifting back over the past two days. He had no doubt that once Huggy and Alice found him gone, they had returned to Bay City and immediately told Hutch that he was alive. He sighed heavily, trying to ignore the ache in his heart. He missed his former partner desperately. The pain of their forced separation was still as acute as it had been almost ten years ago when he woke up in that damned hospital. Sometimes, his memories of Hutch and the time they had spent together had been the only thing that kept him going when it would have been easier to just give up. He smiled almost bitterly. It was that bond with his partner and best friend that had sent him back into hiding. He would not let anything happen to Hutch, not as long as he was alive.

If they could get to his mother and Nicky as easily as they had, they could get to Hutch just as easily. They had been murdered because of him and he had made a solemn vow that no more innocent lives would be lost because of him, especially Hutch's life. It was a vow that he intended to keep. Still, seeing Huggy and Alice again had stirred the yearning for home that lingered deep inside of him that he had tried to ignore for so long.

He shifted positions restlessly. He had to keep on the move. He couldn't stay in one place for very long. He knew that Hutch would come looking for him and keeping on the run was the only way to keep him from finding him. Not that that would deter Hutch. He would keep looking. Starsky had told Hutch once that he knew Hutch inside and out. That he knew who he knew, he knew how he thought, and that he could predict every move that Hutch would make. The problem was that Hutch knew Starsky just as well. That would make him even more tenacious than Gunther or the FBI. But, even as determined at Starsky knew Hutch would be to find him, Starsky was just as determined not to let that happen. As long as he had believed that Starsky was dead, Hutch was safe. Finding out the brunet was alive would put the big blond in danger without even knowing it.

Every time he closed his eyes, Starsky's mind conjured up images of Hutch crawling inside a bottle to deal with his grief and pain. It was not a pretty picture and it only added to the guilt that Starsky carried deep inside. Hutch could be one tough son of a bitch, except when it came to Starsky. Then he carried his heart on his sleeve. And the feeling was mutual. Hutch was the only person besides his mother and his brother that had ever been able to break through the wall that Starsky had built around his emotions. He was intimately familiar with Starsky's vulnerable side. He knew all of Starsky's hidden weaknesses and fears, just like Starsky knew Hutch's secrets. It was that familiarity that had made them so good as a team. And now, that same familiarity could end up being Starsky's downfall.

Finally, Starsky drifted into a restless slumber. As he tossed and turned, subconsciously alert for any unusual sounds, he began to dream.

_It was dark in the house but he didn't need a light to find his way up the stairs to the bedrooms. He moved quietly, blending into the shadows, as he stayed close to the wall. As he paused on the landing, he heard sounds coming from a room on his left. Nicky's room. As he slowly, pushed open the door, he felt a terror unlike anything he had ever felt before, overwhelming him. He reached for his gun only to discover that he wasn't wearing it. _

_As the door opened, his mind registered the grisly scene in front of him. Nicky was sitting up in his bed, reaching out for him, even as the blood gushed from the gash in his throat. "It's your fault, Davey…" Nicky's raspy voice gasped "All your fault…"_

_Starsky backed out of the room, shaking his head and closing his eyes against the horror inside that room. The door slammed shut, startling him. He turned and ran down the hallway to his mother's room, throwing open the door._

_The scream ripped from his throat when he saw his mother's body, her throat slit, and her sightless eyes staring at him accusingly. "NO!" He screamed, tears running down his face as he turned to run._

_Suddenly, Hutch was standing in the doorway, glaring at him. His chest covered with blood, a knife still sticking in his chest. "It's your fault, buddy…it's all your fault…" Hutch said, blood running from his mouth as he spoke. "We're all dead because of you…" _

_Hutch raised his hand, his magnum clutched tightly in his fist. "We're dead! And you're not!" The sound of the gunshot echoed loudly in the room and Starsky felt the bullet tear into his chest. As he fell to the floor and his eyes closed for the final time, he heard Hutch's voice saying, "You're supposed to be dead! Why aren't you dead? Why did I die instead of you?"_

Starsky awoke with a violent start, the scream dying on his lips as he lay there, staring into the darkness, his heart pounding frantically in his chest and the tears streaming down his face. He tossed aside the sleeping bag as he sat up and drew his knees up to his chest. Wrapping his arms around his shins, he laid his head on his knees and began to cry; deep, heart wrenching sobs torn from the depths of his very soul.


	9. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER NINE**

Hutch tried to concentrate on the papers spread across the coffee table in front of him. The blinding pain in his head made if difficult to think, much less read the words on the paper. He fought to control the urge to take a drink. Just one drink to calm his nerves and smooth out the edges. But, he gritted his teeth and pushed aside the urge to give in to the siren song of the bottle. It had been almost two weeks since he'd had his last drink and the tremors and other physical symptoms were slowly starting to go away. No matter how strong the urge was to drink, he knew that he had to stay sober if he intended to continue his search for Starsky.

Hutch took a deep breath and picked up the reports from New York on the murders of Nick and Rachel Starsky. There wasn't much to go on. It appeared to have been a random break-in that ended with the deaths of two people. But, Hutch knew that looks could be deceiving. Evidence could be planted or tainted. Especially if the cover up had been done by someone like Gunther or the FBI who had the money and the connections to make things happen. Their murders seemed too coincidental to Hutch's trained eye, especially since he knew now that Starsky had escaped from his captors the day before. Hutch knew it could never be proven, but, he believed that Nick and Rachel had been killed to send a warning to his partner.

"Damn it, Starsky…" Hutch muttered in a broken voice "Why did you have to be so damn bull headed? Why didn't you tell me what was going on? Why didn't you come to me when you got away from those bastards?"

In his heart, Hutch already knew the answer to his own questions. He knew that Rachel and Nicky's murders would have devastated the brunet and make him even more determined to protect Hutch from the same fate. Even if it meant that he had to stay in hiding and let the world go on believing that he was dead. Hutch knew that anyone close to Starsky would have become a potential target in order to keep the brunet in line.

Dropping the report on the Starsky murders to the table, Hutch bounced to his feet and began to pace the floor to work off some of his frustration. In hindsight, he knew that he should have kept looking, forced the department to keep the investigation into Starsky's alleged murder open. But, at the time, his own grief and pain had kept him from thinking clearly. Then, he had allowed the alcohol to cloud his thinking even more, to act as a buffer for the emotions he didn't want to deal with.

Now, he found himself dealing with another kind of grief and pain. The grief that came from knowing that his partner was still alive and out there somewhere alone without anyone watching his back. The pain of knowing that Starsky had been taken against his will and held prisoner, drugged and restrained to keep him under control. And, the entire time, he had been alone without anyone that he could count on. But, now that Hutch knew the truth, he wouldn't turn his back on his best friend again. He had to find Starsky. For Starsky's sake and for his own. Then, together, they could fight to banish the demons from the past that had separated them and kept them apart.

With a heavy sigh, Hutch returned to the papers on the table. Starsky had covered his tracks well in the past nine years. His life as Mitch Conners was shrouded in mystery. Even after living in Mesa for almost four years, it seemed like nobody had really known him. All the reports from his neighbors and acquaintances in the city had described him as a loner, quiet, reserved, almost anti-social. They all said that he kept to himself and didn't go out of his way to make friends. It was as if he was a shadow of a man, a ghost existing in the shadows. And, in a way, Hutch knew that's exactly what he was. A man without a past or a future. An enigma, a persona, created in Starsky's own mind.

Hutch smiled faintly. That was what had made Starsky so good as an undercover cop, his ability to adapt, his talent for blending in with his surroundings. Starsky could come up with a believable past for his undercover identities on the spur of the moment when he needed to. It was a talent that Hutch had always admired.

Hutch leaned back against the sofa and closed his eyes, clearing his mind, and trying to think like his partner. He knew that Starsky wouldn't head back towards the west coast, and it was logical to assume that he would avoid the east coast too. So that left either north or south. And knowing how much Starsky hated the cold that left the warmer southern climates. Unfortunately, that still left a lot of territory to cover.

Hutch opened his eyes and leaned forward to pick up the sketches that he had gotten a former police artist to make up for him based on Alice and Huggy's description of Starsky's current appearance. He had already had them faxed to police departments all across the country, listing Starsky as a missing person and giving his phone numbers, both at home and at the agency, as contact numbers. Others, he planned to take with him, both to show to the people he came into contact with and to leave behind at truck stops, motels and general stores in the hope that someone might remember seeing Starsky along the way. Hutch knew his former partner well enough to know the kind of places that Starsky would avoid. The key to remaining hidden would be to either avoid as many people as possible or to try and blend into the crowd. An inner instinct told Hutch that Starsky would also avoid big cities since he knew that's where Hutch would expect to find him.

A knock at the door distracted him from his thoughts. Rising to his feet, he crossed the room and unlocked the chain, opening the door to find Alice standing on his front porch. With a genuinely warm smile, he ushered her inside. The soft fragrance of her perfume lingered in the air as she passed.

"Did you find anything that helps?" Alice asked, nodding at the scattered papers lying on the coffee table.

"Nothing much." Hutch admitted. "Starsky did a good a job at covering his tracks…but then, he always did."

"So how are you going to find him?" Alice said, as she gracefully sat down on the sofa. Her short skirt slid up to expose her long, shapely legs. She crossed her ankles demurely and looked at Hutch with her big blue eyes.

"It's not going to be easy, especially since he doesn't want to be found."

"Well, if anybody can find him, you can." Alice said in a confident voice. She smiled almost sadly. "Darling, I'm sorry I didn't tell you when I first saw that picture. If I had, then maybe Starsky would be here right now instead out there somewhere alone and scared."

"Maybe…maybe not." Hutch said with a thin smile. "He can be as bull headed as they come when he wants to be. If he thinks what he's doing is the right thing to keep everybody he cares about safe…then he still might have done the same thing even if I had gone with you."

"No…he wouldn't have." Alice said firmly. "You wouldn't have let him because you wouldn't have let him out of your sight."

"It's not your fault he ran." Hutch reassured her. "And even if I had been there…if he really wanted to take off…he would have found a way."

"You look good, sugar…really good." Alice said, abruptly changing the subject.

"Thanks…" Hutch said with a self conscious smile. "I'm trying…but it's not easy. I have to keep telling myself that I don't really want a drink…that I have to keep a clear head if I want to find Starsky."

"So what are you going to do next?"

"Take a trip to Mesa…see if I can pick up his trail from there."

"Can I do anything to help?"

"Help Shane and Brad take care of things while I'm gone." He smiled warmly and reached out to gently run his fingers down her cheek. "I can't thank you enough for following your instincts…for finding Starsky for me again…even if he did run." His eyes glistened with unshed tears as he added, "At least now I know he's alive…all I have to do is find him."

"You will…I know you. You won't give up until you do." A smile tugged at her lips, "Starsky knows that too. He knows you'll find him one way or the other…even if it takes the rest of your life. I have a feeling that he's counting on that."

"I hope you're right." Hutch said "Now, how about if I take you out to dinner? We'll go to the best restaurant in town."

"The Pits?" Alice asked with a soft chuckle, her eyes twinkling brightly.

"No, I was thinking of something a bit more upscale."

As he walked towards his bedroom, Alice found herself smiling. The old Hutch was slowly coming back, but he wouldn't be complete until Starsky was once more at his side.


	10. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER TEN**

Starsky, now using the name Tony Rico, found himself spending the night in a one horse town just across the Florida state line. He had been on the road for ten days and felt confident that he had put enough distance between himself and Arizona that he could rest for a few days before moving on.

Personal experience over the years had taught him that people in small towns like this one tended to be more suspicious and guarded with strangers. And since his identification still read Mitch Conners, he couldn't risk checking into a motel for the night. So, that meant another night camping out under the stars.

He had found a quiet, secluded area near a small lake that made a perfect spot to camp out. It didn't take long to set up his tent and sleeping bag. Gathering some rocks he found along the shore of the lake, he made a fire pit for use later that evening. After washing his hands and face in the cold lake water, he changed into a clean shirt and pair of jeans before heading into town to get a bite to eat.

Since Florida was a tourist state, strangers weren't that uncommon, even in the hundreds of small towns scattered around the state. The weather here was milder than in Arizona. It was still hot but it wasn't the dry heat he had grown accustomed to in Mesa. Here, the humidity hung heavily in the air, leaving him sweaty and out of sorts. The faint aroma of the ocean lingered in the air, a smell he still associated with California and Bay City.

The tiny coastal town reminded him of the western set he and Hutch had been on one time while investigating a series of mysterious murders. The storefronts with their weathered wooden facades spoke of an earlier, more innocent time in this state's history. Starsky found a tiny café with a sign in the window that advertised authentic Cajun cooking. Starsky had never tried Cajun food but he was game to trying some. An elderly couple sat at one of the tables near the front door, and a younger couple sat in a booth near the back. Starsky made his way to a booth along the wall and sat down.

He was glancing over a menu when a waitress with dark hair streaked with gray and deep blue eyes approached his table. Her skin was deeply tanned, her skin almost leathery in appearance from years spent under the hot Florida sun. In the distinctively accented voice native to the region, she said,

"Hi, handsome. What can I get you to drink?"

"Coffee." Starsky said, gracing her with a warm smile.

"Would you like a few minutes to look over the menu?"

"What's good here?"

"Everything, of course…" the woman told him with wide grin.

"What would you suggest?" Starsky asked with a chuckle.

"The special today is shrimp gumbo and bacon wrapped catfish."

"Sounds good. I'll have that." Starsky told her, putting the menu back between the wall and the napkin holder sitting on the table. "Is it spicy?"

"A little." The waitress told him. "But not too bad." She nodded at the bottles of hot sauce and Tabasco sauce sitting on the table. "You can always spice it up if it's not hot enough to suit you."

"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind." Starsky told her as she turned to walk away.

She returned almost immediately with a steaming cup of coffee that she sat down on the table in front of him. The rich aroma filled the air as Starsky picked up the cup and took a cautious sip. The flavor was rich with a slightly bitter aftertaste that Starsky wasn't accustomed to. He added some sugar to sweeten it, stirring the brew slowly.

When his food arrived, he saw that the shrimp gumbo was actually a thick soup containing boiled shrimp, carrots, potatoes, green peppers, celery, onions, and okra. The catfish was deep fried in batter and then wrapped in thick pieces of fried bacon. The food was delicious, spicy but not too spicy, the subtle blend of peppers and spices adding a distinctive flavor that Starsky enjoyed immensely. The food was both satisfying and filling. He finished off his meal with a second cup of coffee and a slice of pecan pie.

Pulling some bills from his pocket, he left the money on the table to pay for his food along with a generous tip. The waitress smiled and waved as he left the café. Walking down the main street, Starsky glanced in various shop windows as he passed, intrigued by some of the craftsmanship in the area. He passed a local tavern and considered going in for a couple of beers but changed his mind, continuing on down the street.

Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks, his breath catching in his throat, as he found himself staring at a sketch of himself staring back at him. It was posted in the window of the local post office and was an amazingly good likeness of him. His eyes quickly scanned the pertinent information that accompanied the picture. It gave his real name, the name he had been using in Mesa, and his vital statistics: Height, approximate weight, hair color, eye color, and birth date. The phone numbers listed at the bottom of the page weren't familiar to Starsky, but the name Hutchinson Investigations caught his eye.

He smiled thinly without any humor. The sketch confirmed that Hutch was on the case and that he was actively searching for him. He was surprised that Hutch had gone to the expense and time to send out the sketches. Hell, he had probably plastered every state in the United States with Starsky's picture which simply identified him as a missing person. Lowering his head and pulling up the collar of his jacket to help hide his face, Starsky hurried back towards his secluded camp site.

He would have to be more careful than ever now and alter his current appearance as much as possible. His face was covered with a week's growth of beard which he decided to keep. He would also let his hair grow so the natural curl would help make him look different from the sketches. Although he had originally planned on staying here for a couple of days, he abruptly decided to spend the night and then move on the next day.

With any luck, in another few days he would be in Miami or Fort Lauderdale, where it would be easy to blend in and hide in either one of the large tourist towns along the coast. Back at his hidden campsite, Starsky built a small fire to ward off the chill of the night air and then he settled in for the night.

He tossed and turned most of the night, finally rising well before dawn and breaking camp. By the time the sun crept over the horizon, Starsky was back on the road and back on the run.

Four days later, the latest good Samaritana to give him a ride dropped him off on the outskirts of Miami. With his heavy beard and his closely trimmed hair starting to grow out, he was confident that he had changed his appearance enough that the sketch he had seen a few days earlier didn't resemble him so much now. Still, he knew better than to let down his guard. Now, he had to worry about Hutch looking for him, as well as the FBI and Gunther. He knew that sooner or later, his luck would run out and one of them would find him.


	11. Chapter 11

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

Hutch sat back in the booth, lost in thought. He had just finished sorting through the various sightings that had been called into the agency once the sketches of Starsky were posted coast to coast. Some of them were obviously false, such as the one that said Starsky had been abducted by alians. But, some of them sounding promising, especially the one from a truck driver who said he had picked up man fitting Starsky's description just outside of Mesa the night Starsky disappeared from the area. The message said he had dropped the man off in El Paso. The message included the truck drivers name and a contact number. Hutch had called the number but the driver was on the road and wouldn't be back home until the following day.

Hutch also had a detailed report on Rachel and Nick Starsky's murders and what little could be found out about Mitch Conners for the time he had been in Mesa, which wasn't much. Hutch took a sip of the iced tea sitting on the table in front of him. He would much rather have had a beer but he hadn't had a drink in almost two weeks and he wasn't about to fall off the wagon now. Too much depended on him staying sober.

But, the urge was there and it was just as strong as it had ever been.

He glanced up as Huggy approached his table and slid into the seat across from him. The tall thin man was dressed conservatively, at least by his standards, in a pair of lavender slacks and a bright yellow shirt.

"How's it going, my man?" Huggy asked, noting the dark circles under Hutch's eyes and the slight tremor in his hands. Having battled his own demons with the bottle, Huggy knew from experience how hard is was for Hutch to fight those demons alone.

"Slow. I got one lead that sounds promising," Hutch told him "A truck driver based here in California saw one of the sketches and called in to say that he picked up a hitchhiker just outside of Mesa the night Starsky took off. He said that he dropped him off in El Paso."

"That sounds like Curly, heading south where it's warm." Huggy said with a smirk. His expression turned serious, "What are you going to do now?"

"Start following his trail." Hutch replied in a determined voice. "I wanna talk to this truck driver first…see what he has to say…find out what Starsky told him."

"You think you can find him? I know Curly…if he doesn't want to be found, it's not going to be easy following his trail."

"That's why I send those sketches out all over the country." Hutch said, "I'm hoping that people will keep calling in with sightings."

"You sure that was such a good idea?" Huggy asked in a concerned tone. "I mean plastering those sketches up all over the place like that? Suppose the bad guys see them and pick up on his trail too?"

"That's a risk I had to take. It's a big country. I had to have help figuring out which direction he was headed in." Hutch said a bit defensively.

"I know you don't want to hear this, but, what if you don't find him?"

"I have to find him, Hug…" Hutch said, a catch in his voice that betrayed his emotions. "I have to." He swallowed hard to dislodge the sudden lump in his throat. "I have to." He repeated again. "For his sake…"

_And for your sake too, Blondie, _Huggy thought to himself. He didn't have to say his thoughts out loud. He could see the desperation in Hutch's eyes. He knew if Hutch didn't find Starsky, he would crawl back into the bottle and never come out again. If he made it past the barrel of his gun. He sighed softly as he came to a decision of his own.

"You want some company?"

"What?" Hutch asked, arching one eyebrow at the thin black man questioningly.

"Do you want some company?" Huggy repeated patiently. "I'm due for a vacation from this place. I thought maybe I'd tag along with you…help you find Curly boy before he gets himself into too much trouble."

"I can't ask you to do that."

"Hey, you ain't asking, I'm volunteering." Huggy said with a grin. "Besides, I figure you might need some looking after too."

"I look that bad, huh?" Hutch said with a chuckle. He finished the rest of his iced tea and signaled the waitress for another one. He was only half joking. When he looked in the mirror each morning, he knew that he looked like hell, even with his hair cut and clean shaven.

"I've seen you looking worse than this." Huggy pointed out with a smirk.

"Yeah, I know." Hutch admitted ruefully. He was ashamed at how far down he had allowed himself to fall, how much of his pride and self respect he had sacrificed grieving for the loss of his partner and best friend. The idea of having Huggy Bear accompany him on his journey was appealing and he sure could use the company. Huggy may not be Starsky but he was a close second when it came to being a true friend.

Too many people misjudged Huggy. All they saw was the flashy clothes and the jive talk. But, Huggy was a product of the streets. He knew how to take care of himself when the chips were down and he was loyal to his friends. Hutch couldn't think of a better man to be covering his back on this trip.

"So when do we leave?" Huggy asked, almost as if he had read Hutch's mind the way that Starsky used to do.

"How about as soon as I talk to this truck driver? He's supposed to be home tomorrow." Hutch told him. "So, why don't we plan on taking off Friday morning?"

"Sounds good to me." Huggy said "That'll give me time to go over things with Diane and Anita before I take off. Good thing I trust them not to rob me blind while I'm gone."

"Are you kidding?" Huggy said with a grin "They watch this place as if they owned it when you're gone."

"That they do." Huggy agreed "And since I am the owner of this fine establishment, I'd better get back to work."

"Thanks, Huggy." Hutch said gratefully. Huggy nodded as he rose to his feet. He

knew that Hutch was thanking him for more than just his company and a little conversation.

As Huggy returned to his duties behind the bar, Hutch stood up and left some money on the table to pay his tab. He gathered up the papers scattered across the top of the table, stuffing them in his jacket as he left the bar.

Hutch took a deep breath of the cool night air as he exited through the front door. For the first time in almost ten years, he felt as if he had a sense of direction, a purpose in his life that finally made sense. One way or the other, he was going to find Starsky and bring him home again. Together they would bring Starsky back from the dead.


	12. Chapter 12

**CHAPTER TWELVE**

**Warning: This chapter does contain some scenes of sexual activity between two consenting adults. Do not read any farther if this topic offends you.**

Starsky lifted the heavy tub of dirty dishes and carried them into the kitchen, Using the name, Rick Marlowe, he had found a sleeping room in a cheap rooming house a few blocks from the club where he got a job washing dishes. He had been in Miami for a little over a week and was slowly settling into a routine. He knew that Miami was a large enough town to offer him some protection, at least for awhile. His job at the club was in keeping with his low profile. Everyone thought he was just another drifter looking for a place to settle for awhile before moving on. He had deliberately led the few people he came into contact daily that he was on the run from the law for violating his probation.

Two of the women who worked at the club, one as a waitress and one as a dancer, lived in the rooming house where he was staying. Angie, the waitress, had helped him get the job as a dishwasher. She had been friendly and helpful from the beginning, offering to show him around the city and advising which areas in town it was best to avoid.

Shelly, the dancer, had openly flirted with him from the start and had made it quite clear that she was interested. So far, he had managed to discourage her advances, but that was getting harder to do. Not only was she persistent, but, it had also been a long time since he had been with a woman. Over two years. The thought of sharing his bed with a warm, willing partner with no strings attached was definitely appealing, even if Shelly was a little too pushy. He had never cared for sexually aggressive women that came on too strong.

He glanced at the clock. His shift ended in twenty minutes. The thought of going back to his empty, lonely room depressed him. Maybe he would stick around for an hour or so and have a couple of beers instead of leaving when he got off work like he usually did. He ran the dishes through the dishwasher and then waited for them to air dry before putting them away. His relief arrived just as he was finishing up. After exchanging some casual pleasantries, he clocked out and went into the main part of the club.

The lights were dim and the air in the room heavy with smoke that burned his eyes. Every table in the large, cavernous room was occupied, mostly with men. The club advertised _'live exotic entertainment'_ which was nothing more then a fancy way of saying that the club had strippers.

Starsky slid onto an empty stool at the end of the bar and nodded at Jimmy, the bartender. Jimmy was a college student who only worked at the club on the weekends. With his blond hair and blue eyes, he reminded Starsky of Hutch. He even had the same naive outlook on life that Hutch had when Starsky first met him. Jimmy grinned broadly as he walked over to where Starsky sat.

"Hey, Rick," he said "What can I get for you?"

"A cold beer sounds good." Starsky told him with an answering grin.

"Coming right up."

When Jimmy returned with his beer, Starsky turned around on his seat and looked

at the dancer on the stage. It was Shelly. She was dressed in a red g-string and pasties, leaving almost nothing to the imagination. Her moves were smooth and sensuous, designed to make the men in the room dig deep in their pockets for tips. She had told Starsky that she practiced every day in front of a mirror to perfect her technique. With her full breasts and hour glass figure, there was no doubt that her body was enough to turn most men on without even trying. It didn't hurt that she was also a very attractive woman with long ginger colored hair, brown eyes and a lush, full mouth that was just made for kissing.

It wasn't long before Shelly noticed Starsky sitting at the bar and began dancing just for him. Her moves became even more seductive and suggestive, a fact that did not go unnoticed by the other men in the room, who began whistling and clapping. Each of them thought that she was dancing just for them, instead of an disinterested audience of one.

When her set ended, Shelly stepped off the stage and into the crowd, expertly working the room to make more money. Starsky ordered another beer as he continued to watch Shelly put on a show. She worked her way closer to Starsky with each private dance until she was standing right in front of the brunet.

"Hi, Rick." She purred in a voice that sounded like good whiskey being poured over cracked ice at the end of a long hard day. "I'm glad you didn't run off tonight when you got off work like you usually do."

"Couple of beers sounded good," Starsky told her "It's been a long night."

"Poor baby, I bet I can help relax you." Shelly whispered as she swayed in time to the music.

"I bet you could."

"Honey, I know I can…" She cooed as she moved in closer until she was straddling Starsky's hips, grinding her groin against his in a classic lap dance. Deprived of such an intimate touch from a woman for so long, Starsky's body immediately began to respond accordingly. He kept his hands at his side, familiar with the rules of the dance. The dancer could touch the man but the man couldn't touch the dancer. As Shelly's movements became even more suggestive, Starsky felt himself growing hard, his cock throbbing with repressed need.

A pleased smile tugged at Shelly's lips as she got the response she wanted, She rubbed herself against him harder, turned on by the hard bulge that was rapidly growing bigger in his jeans. When the music ended and she finally stopped, they were both sweaty and breathing heavily. Their eyes locked and without a word, Starsky rose to his feet and slipped his arm around her waist as they walked towards the steps that led to the private rooms upstairs.

Once they were inside one of the private rooms, Shelly threw herself into his arms and began kissing him hungrily. Aroused beyond the point of self-control, Starsky kissed the half-naked woman in his arms just as hungrily. He felt Shelly rip open his shirt, exposing his fur covered chest. Within minutes, they were both naked and lying on the bed. Too far gone to wait any longer, Starsky entered her willing body with one hard thrust.

He moaned deeply as he began to move his hips, already feeling his balls starting to tighten up in anticipation of his climax.

"Do it, baby, do it, do it…" Shelly moaned almost frantically in his curl covered ear. She bucked beneath him, meeting him thrust for thrust, until his body exploded. A ragged cry ripped from his throat as his world turned upside down. Shuddering from the intensity of his orgasm, he collapsed on top of Shelly, burying his face against her neck, as he waited for his breathing and heart rate to return to normal.

He was still recovering when the door to the room suddenly slammed open and three men entered the room. Two of them grabbed Starsky by the arms and, none too gently, pulled him to his feet. Breathing heavily, Starsky looked at the unfamiliar faces of the intruders. The two men holding him were large, outweighing him by several pounds.

The third man wasn't as big but he was still lean and muscular.

Shelly smiled smugly and stood up. Starsky watched as she walked over to the third man and kissed him deeply. When the couple broke apart, the man smiled at her and said, "Good job, baby."

"I did good?" Shelly cooed like a little girl looking for approval.

"You did good." The man assured her as he ran his hand over her ass in a possessive caress.

Starsky watched the exchange somberly. He assumed that he was about to take a beating and, maybe get robbed, but he wasn't going down without putting up a fight. He saw the man take a roll of bills out of his pocket. He peeled several off the roll and handed them to Shelly.

"There you go, Baby," he said "You earned every penny of it. There's even a little bonus there for you."

Shelly glanced at Starsky for a moment, almost apologetically, and then she looked back at the man who had given her the money. As she left the room, leaving Starsky alone with the three men, she said, "Thank you, Mr. Gunther."


	13. Chapter 13

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

Starsky groaned as he started to regain consciousness. His whole body hurt from the beating he had received at the hands of the two gorillas that worked for James Gunther, Jr. As he became more aware, he took stock of his various aches and pains. His head felt like a crew of little men were trying touch pound their way out with their tiny sledgehammers and his could feel his broken ribs rubbing together whenever he tried to take a deep breath. His stomach ached where he'd been kicked around like a football and the food he had eaten earlier that day threatened to make a return appearance at any minute. He could only open his right eye, his left one was swollen shut and the side of his face itched from the dried blood that had dripped down his cheek from a gash above his left eye.

He tried shifting into a more comfortable position but found that almost impossible to do with his hands and feet tied securely. At first he thought it was dark outside or that the room he was in had no windows, but then he realized that he was blindfolded. He had always hated not being able to see what was going on around him. Being rendered sightless left him feeling vulnerable and helpless. Unable to see, he couldn't defend himself from an unexpected attack. Not that he could do that anyway with his hands and feet tied

Starsky had no doubt that Gunther intended to kill him, but death would not come easy. It would be slow and painful, drawn out to increase the brunet's suffering. Starsky was not afraid to die. He had faced death too many times in the past to fear it. For him, death would be a welcome escape. He wouldn't have to run anymore or be constantly looking over his shoulder for his enemies. His only regret was that he would die without being able to see Hutch just one more time. He felt a strange sense of calm settle over him as he accepted the inevitability of his own death. To the rest of the world. David Starsky had been dead for years, so there would no one to mourn his passing or to put his soul to rest in sacred ground.

He heard the sound of a door opening somewhere behind him. Instinctively, he tried to turn his head in that direction. Footsteps crossed the floor towards him, pausing a few feet away. Starsky lay still, listening and waiting for the attack he was sure to follow. He didn't have to wait long. Pain exploded in his left knee, forcing a ragged scream of pain from his throat. Before he had time to fully recover, mind numbing pain exploded in his right knee. Instinctively, Starsky drew his knees up towards his stomach, curling into a fetal position.

"Untie the bastard," Gunther's voice growled "He won't be going no place now."

The hated voice moved closer until Gunther was speaking into a curl covered ear. "Hurts like a son of a bitch, doesn't it. Just be thankful that all I did was bust your kneecaps…at least for now. We have plenty of time to play. You'd be surprised at how long you can torture a man without killing him if you know the right spots to hurt."

Starsky felt unseen hands untying the rope around his wrists and ankles, giving him a limited range of motion. Then the footsteps moved away and the door opened, then slammed shut again. Starsky lay there, still curled in a fetal position, trying to breathe through the pain that threatened to overwhelm him.

Once he had the pain under control, he raised shaky hands and used numb fingers to untie the blindfold that covered his eyes. Even that simple movement caused his body to scream in protest. Slowly, his weary gaze swept around the room he was being held prisoner in. With the rough hewn stone walls and dirt floor, the room appeared to be some sort of cellar or basement. The stuffy, musty smell in the air indicated that it hadn't been used in quite some time. There was one window high up on the far wall but the glass pane was smeared with layers of dirt and grime. The sunlight that filtered in was muted, leaving most of the room clocked in dark shadows.

The pain in his knees slowly subsided to a dull throb. As long as he didn't move, the pain was tolerable. Just one more thing to add to his growing list of complaints. From his time spent in Viet Nam when he was barely out of his teens, Starsky knew that Gunther's words were true. A man could be tortured relentlessly, sometimes for months, before his body finally gave out. But, Starsky didn't think that Gunther intended to keep him alive that long. He prayed that when it came his death would come swiftly, like a thief in the night. Still, it was not in his nature to give up without a fight. He knew that he had the power. He could taunt Gunther, goad him into finishing him off quickly. When he was backed into a corner, his mouth had always been his biggest weapon.

Starsky closed his eyes as his body closed down, pulling him into the darkness where he was safe, at least for the time being.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHS

It was shortly after midnight when Hutch and Huggy Bear crossed the state line into Florida. Once people began calling with sightings of the missing brunet, it hadn't been hard to figure out which direction he was heading in. Hutch pulled into the first motel he saw and got a room for the night. Both men were tired from their long drive and needed some sleep.

While Huggy was taking a shower, Hutch called his office. Alice answered the phone with a sweet honey toned greeting. "Hutchinson Investigations. This is Alice. May I help you?"

"Alice? It's Hutch. What are you still doing there? You should have gone home hours ago."

"I figured you'd be calling and I wanted to let you know about a couple of calls that came in this afternoon." She told him.

"Okay, shoot." Hutch told her as he stretched out his aching body on one of the twin beds and tried to relax.

"Okay, the first one came from a woman in Miami who said that Starsky was working as a dishwasher at the same club where she works. He's also living in the same rooming house a few blocks away. Her name is Angie McMiller and her phone number is 999-555-3421. She also said that she hasn't seen him for the last two days. He got off work at his usual time Tuesday night but never went home and didn't show up for work the next day."

"Okay, got it." Hutch said, scribbling down the woman's name and contact number even as he spoke. "What about the other call?"

"It was from a man who refused to leave his name. He said that Gunther knows were Starsky is and that you're too late." Alice said in a solemn voice. "He said that Starsky will be dead before you get there."

"Thanks, Alice." Hutch said gruffly, trying to conceal his concern at the last message. "You go on home now. Thanks for waiting there to give me the messages."

"Anytime, Sugar. Anytime," Alice said "I'll be praying for you and for Starsky too. I hope you find him before it's too late."

"So do I," Hutch muttered as he hung up the phone. He was lying there on the bed, staring sightlessly at the ceiling when Huggy Bear came out of the bathroom dressed in a pair of brightly colored pajamas.

"Any more news?" the tall thin black man asked as he pulled back the blankets on his own bed.

"Yeah, I got a phone number for a woman in Miami who said that she knows Starsky. He's living at the same rooming house she is and works at the same club a few blocks away."

"Hey, that's great," Huggy said enthusiastically.

"No, it's not. She hasn't seen him for the last two days. He left work but never made it home and didn't show up at work the next day." Hutch sighed heavily before continuing. "There was also a call from a man that refused to identify himself. He said that Gunther knew where Starsky was and that he'd be dead before I got there."

"You wanna get back on the road instead of spending the night here?" Huggy asked

"No," Hutch said in a heavy voice. "We both need some sleep. If Gunther has Starsky, he could already be dead. Leaving now or waiting till morning won't change that." He swallowed hard to dislodge the sudden lump in his throat. "According to the woman who called, he's been missing for two days…that's plenty of time for Gunther to kill him."

"Do you think he's dead?" Huggy asked, slumping down on the bed. "Do you think we're too late?"

"I don't know…" Hutch said in a forlorn voice. "I just don't know. I can't 'feel' him anymore, Hug…not the way I used to…"

"Then we need to keep the faith, my white brother." Huggy said "And we need to get some sleep so we can hit the road first thing in the morning. If Starsky's still alive, we're the only ones who give a damn."


	14. Chapter 14

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

Hutch maneuvered through the heavy mid-day traffic towards the address of the rooming house where Starsky was reported to have been living while in Miami. He drove in silence, lost in his own thoughts. He felt the old familiar adrenalin rush that came when he was following up a hot lead. He was still trying to get used to the idea that Starsky was still alive. But, if Gunther had him, then finding him as soon as possible was imperative. Starsky's life depended on. But, Miami was a big city and Hutch didn't have the connections here that he did back in Bay City that would make trying to find Starsky in time even more difficult.

The rooming house was located on a quiet side street three blocks from the club where Starsky had been working as a dishwasher. A small sign in the front window read _'Rooms for Rent by the week or by the month' _Hutch had already called ahead so the woman who owned the rooming house was expecting them.

Since it was early in the afternoon, most of the roomers who lived in the house were at work but, fortunately, the woman who had called them with the original lead about Starsky's whereabouts was at home since she worked nights. Talking briefly with the owner of the rooming house first, Hutch found out that Starsky had rented a room from her a little over a week before and had paid two months rent in advance and he had paid in cash. She commented that he was polite and soft spoken. When Hutch asked for a spare key to his room, she gave it to him without any objections.

After speaking to her, Hutch and Huggy went up the steps to the second floor so Hutch could have a look at Starsky's room. The room was large and sunny with a window that faced the south. It was neat a clean without any outward signs of Starsky's occupancy. A few pairs of faded jeans and some tee shirts were neatly folded in the dresser with some clean socks and underwear tucked away in the top drawer. In the nightstand, Hutch found a fully loaded thirty-eight with two extra clips. Wherever Starsky was, he was unarmed. An envelope hidden under the single pillow on the bed caught Hutch's attention. Tears sprang to his eyes when he opened it and pulled out a faded photograph of Starsky and himself taken shortly after they met over twenty years ago. From the condition of the worn photograph, it was apparent that Starsky had looked at it often. Tucked away in the same envelope was a second, worn and faded, picture of Starsky's mother, Rachel.

Hutch swallowed back the lump in his throat as he slipped the envelope containing the two photographs into his jacket pocket. He glanced up as Huggy laid a hand on his shoulder and gave his arm a comforting squeeze. "We'll find him, bro." Huggy said confidently.

"He didn't forget, Huggy." Hutch said in a choked voice. "He didn't run out on us…"

"Of course he didn't." Huggy said "He didn't have any choice in the matter…and when he finally managed to get away…he let you go on thinking he was dead for your own good. But, he never stopped caring…keeping that picture all these years proves that."

"It was all he had left," Hutch said, a single tear escaping and running down his cheek. "Those bastards took everything else away from him."

"Yeah, well as soon as we find him, he's gonna get it all back."

"How could the fucking feds do something like that to him? To us?" Hutch said, his voice strained with barely contained rage. "He told them that he wasn't going to hide, that he wouldn't go down without a fight and they still decided to make everybody think he was dead so they could spirit him away 'for his own good'!" His ice blue eyes blazed with a cold fire that Huggy hadn't seen in years. "Who the fuck gave them the right to play god?"

"Hey, man…chill out." Huggy said, knowing that he had to keep the big blond from losing it when they were so close. "Let's talk to the lady that helped Curly get that job. See if she can tell us anything."

Hutch nodded and forced himself to focus on the situation at hand. The two friends left the room and walked down the hall to the room that the landlady had told them belonged to the woman named Angie. Hutch knocked loudly. After a few minutes, the door opened and a petite blonde with an attractive face peered out at them.

"Yes? Can I help you?" she said in a cautious voice, eyeing the two strangers suspiciously.

"Miss Alexander?" Hutch asked with his most charming smile. "I'm Ken Hutchinson from Hutchinson investigations. You called about a missing person that I'm trying to find. David Starsky?"

"Oh, yes…of course. But, he told me that his name was Rick Marlowe." Angie said "Please, come in…"

She closed the door behind them as Hutch and Huggy stepped into the room. Unlike Starsky's room, Angie's room was cluttered with folded clothes lying on top of the dresser and an unmade bed in the middle of the room. Angie looked as if she hadn't been awake for very long. She was dressed in a terrycloth robe, her hair tousled and uncombed.

"I hope he's okay." She said "He usually worked his shift and then left and came straight home. Except the other night. He never came home at all and nobody's seen him or heard from him."

"And that was two days ago. Right?"

"Yeah. Tuesday night."

"Did anything usual happen that night?" Hutch asked

"No. I went in early that day so I could leave early. Rick was still at work when I left. Maybe Shelly could tell you more. She worked the late shift that night."

"Shelly?"  
"Shelly Porter. She lives here too and works at the club as a dancer. She's been trying to get into Rick's pants since he moved in here but he made it pretty clear that he wasn't interested. I don't think she was his type." She smiled faintly "Just goes to show that he had better sense than most of the guys around here."

"Sounds like you don't care much for the lady." Huggy pointed out diplomatically.

"Believe me, honey," Angie told him with a snort "Shelly is anything but a lady. She's been around the block more than a few times. I think she saw Rick as some kind of challenge because he kept turning her down. She wasn't used to some guy telling her no if you catch my drift."

"Where could we find this Shelly?" Hutch asked before Angie could continue her assessment of Shelly's character.

"Probably at the club. She works a double shift on Fridays."

"Thank you very much. You've been a lot of help." Hutch told her with a warm smile.

"I hope you find him. I really liked him. He was a nice guy, ya know?" Angie said sincerely as Hutch and Huggy prepared to leave. She escorted them to the door and watched them until they disappeared down the hall.

Their next stop was the club where Starsky had been employed as a dishwasher. Since it was still early in the day, the place was empty except for a lone bartender and a single customer sitting at the end of the bar. A woman was on the tiny stage dancing to a slow number. She was obviously rehearsing for an evening performance since she was casually dressed in blue jeans, sneakers and a off the shoulder blouse. Her long ginger colored hair was pulled back from her face and tied with a ribbon. Since she appeared to be the only woman in the place at the moment, Hutch assumed that she was Shelly Porter.

Walking up to the edge of the stage, Hutch caught the dancer's eye and smiled. She smiled back, obviously pleased, and stopped dancing. She bent down to turn off the radio, giving Hutch a clear view of her ample cleavage. Ignoring Huggy, she focused her attention on Hutch.

"Well, hello there, handsome." She said "You looking for some company?"

"Depends. Are you Shelly?" Hutch asked

"You bet I am, Blondie. What can I do for you?" she cooed suggestively.

"I'm looking for Rick Marlowe." Hutch told her, using the alias Starsky had been using. "He's a friend of mine."

"Sorry. Haven't seen him for a couple of days." Angie said, eyeing Hutch and Huggy suspiciously. "Maybe he decided to split."

"I don't think so. His stuff is all still in his room." Hutch said "And there are some things there he wouldn't leave without taking."

Shelly jumped down from the stage and looked at Hutch with a guarded expression in her eyes that instantly made him take notice. His cop instincts, rusty as they were, told him that she was hiding something. She knew more then she was telling him.

"Sorry, I can't help you." Shelly said, starting to walk away. Hutch's hand shot out and grabbed her wrist tightly. She gasped and looked at him in surprise, a hint of fear creeping into her eyes.

"Now, you listen to me, lady, and you listen good," Hutch said, lowering his voice so that nobody else could hear him but the woman and Huggy. "I think you know what happened to my friend…so we're going to go somewhere quiet and have a little conversation."

"What if I don't wanna go?" Shelly challenged him with a hint of defiance.

Hutch tightened his grip on her wrist enough to make her wince at the pain as his fingertips pressed against a particularly sensitive pressure point. With a thin smile that never quite reached his eyes, he said, "Then I'm sure my friend here," he nodded at Huggy "Will be happy to convince you that it would be in your best interest to cooperate with us."

Huggy glared at the woman, doing his best to look the part of a bad ass heavy.

He smiled from the teeth out and said, "Sure will. Just ask my ladies back home how ole Huggy keeps them in line." He intertwined his fingers and crackled his knuckles for effect.

"I don't know anything. I swear." Shelly said, still defiant but not as confident as she had been a few minutes ago.

Hutch tightened his grip enough to make her cry out in pain as he twisted her wrist slightly. His voice turned cold and deadly, his street voice, as he said, "Look, I'm tired and I'm in no mood to fuck around. Now, unless you want us to drag you outside to get some answers out of you, you better start talking."

Shelly looked nervously from Hutch's face to Huggy's cold stare. She hesitated for a moment and then whimpered, "They'll kill me if they find out I talked to you."

"Who will?" Hutch demanded "Gunther?"

At the mention of Gunther's name, Shelly's face turned pale and the terror in her eyes was even more evident. Ignoring the pain, she tried to pull her wrist away from Hutch's iron grip. "Let me go, please!" she pleaded "He'll kill me if I tell you anything!"

"Tell me, please…" Hutch said softening his voice. "You know they're going to kill him…tell me before it's too late. I'll help you, I swear. I'll make sure that he doesn't hurt you."

Shelly considered his offer for a moment and then nodded her head. "Not here." She said "There's a room in the back where we can talk in private."

Hutch nodded in agreement and loosened his grip on her wrist but didn't let her go. She turned and led the way through a curtain into the back of the club and down a dimly lit hallway to a room that was obviously used by the staff members when they took their breaks. Closing the door behind them, Shelly locked it securely and then turned to look at Hutch and Huggy Bear. In a resigned voice, she said,

"Mr. Gunther put the word out a couple of months ago, offering to pay anyone who could tell him where to find your friend ten thousand dollars. No questions asked. I heard about the offer but never thought I'd ever be able to collect. Then your friend just showed up at the rooming house a couple of weeks ago and I couldn't believe it. I mean, I really needed the money. I mean who couldn't use ten thousand dollars."

"So you turned him in. Ratted him out to Gunther." Hutch said moving in close and crowding her personal space. "Did it ever cross your mind that once you did that he was a dead man?"

"I didn't think about that." Shelly said, backing up until her back was against the wall. "I didn't want to know what they were going to do to him."

"Where is he?" Hutch growled, placing one hand on the wall on either side of her head and pinning her against the wall with his body.

"I don't know where they took him!" Shelly insisted in a frightened voice. "I don't!"

"How did you get in touch with Gunther?" Huggy asked, taking a step closer to the woman himself.

"Through Louie Martell. He works for the local syndicate here in Miami." She said "He owns half of this club." Her face flushed nervously as she added, "I've done him some favors a few times…when he had a friend from out of town that needed some company."

"Was Gunther one of those 'friends'?"

"Yes." She admitted "He always gave me a big tip and took me out to a nice dinner."

"Do you have any idea where Martell or Gunther could have taken Starsky? Any place quiet and out of the way where they wouldn't be disturbed…and where nobody would call the cops if they heard any screams?" Hutch demanded in a cold, deadly tone

"Maybe…" Shelly said thoughtfully. "Martell owns an old deserted ranch about twenty miles outside of town. Nobody around for miles. I know he took one of the other girls there one time so he could rough her up a little because she was skimming on the side."

"Tell me how to get there."

Within minutes, Hutch had the directions he needed. He promised to return when he found Starsky and take Shelly to talk to the local police so she could give an official statement and get some protection from the bad guys. Dismissing her from his mind, Hutch hurried out of the bar to continue his search for his missing friend and ex-partner.


	15. Chapter 15

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**

Starsky moaned as he tried to ignore the various pains in his body. He knew that his most recent beating had broken some bones and the vicious slashes on his shoulders from the knife stung like hell. He tried to fight the weariness and lethargy that settled over him. He knew that death was close and he almost welcomed it. Almost. The hours of relentless torture had taken their toll and he knew that his body couldn't withstand much more. It took a concentrated effort to take a deep enough breath to satisfy his body's insistent need for oxygen. His faltering heartbeat echoed in his head, gradually beginning to slow down.

His eyes burned and the smell of the gasoline that one of Gunther's goons had poured over his head clogged his nostrils. His vision was blurred and cloudy, vague shapes creeping out of the shadows of the room. He shuddered when he felt something furry brush against his face, followed by a sharp pain in the side of his neck. He was too weak to shake off the rat that seemed determined to make a feast of his flesh.

He heard the squeak of the door to his prison as it swung open and footsteps came towards him. He struggled weakly as he felt someone grab his ankles while someone else grabbed him under his armpits. But he was too weak, too far gone to fight back as the two men carried him out of the room. They carried him for a short distance and then let him fall face first to the ground. Starsky lay there, trying to spit the grains of dirt and sand out of his mouth, the pain in his battered body washing over him even as the darkness embraced him.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

The roar of the gunshot rang out and one of the two men standing over the shallow grave fell to the ground, a well aimed shot blowing out the back of his head. The second man trembled as he slowly raised his hands into the air and begged, "Don't kill me! Please, don't kill me…" His bladder let loose, the front of his jeans darkening with urine, as he stared at the tall blond walking towards him, the smoking gun still held tightly in his hands. The blond's eyes were cold as death, an avenging angel sent to deliver God's vengeance.

"Where is he?" the blond demanded "Where's Starsky?"

"I don't know no Starsky…" the feeble minded goon stammered, falling to his knees in the dirt. His eyes darted to the dead body of his cohort and he began to retch violently, his stomach emptying it's meager contents onto the ground.

Hutch strode over to the whimpering scumbag and grabbed his arm, jerking him to his feet none too gently. "Where is he?" he hissed again "Where's my partner?"

Suddenly, Hutch felt the cold steel of a gun pressing against the back of his neck. Behind him, a cold, flat voice said, "Detective Hutchinson I assume. I don't know how you found us but if you came here looking for your ex-partner than I'll be glad to make sure the two of you are reunited. Drop the gun."

Hutch let the gun fall from his fingers, keeping his hands in plain sight. He silently cursed himself for making a stupid rookie mistake by not making sure the two men were the only danger to contend with.

Gunther glared at the dead man on the ground and the second man who was still trembling in fright and whimpering. "You're pathetic." He hissed "It's a good thing I have no more use for you." A gunshot rang out and the second man fell to the ground with a surprised look on his face and a bullet hole nearly between his eyes. As the second man fell, for the first time, Hutch noticed the fresh mound of dirt behind him that looked suspiciously like a newly covered grave.

Hutch suddenly felt a sharp pain in his chest as if he were having a heart attack. After everything he had been through in the past few weeks, was he too late? Was Starsky buried in that grave? He closed his eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath as he waited for the bullet that would end his own life. Suddenly, his eyes flew open as a faint voice seemed to echo in his mind…_Hutch…help…."_

Hutch heard the shot but felt no pain. Startled, he stumbled forward as Gunther suddenly fell against him, almost knocking him to his knees. Shoving himself to one side, he fell on his side and looked up to see Huggy standing a few feet away, a gun clutched tightly in his hands and a grim expression on his face. Gunther lay on the ground, a bullet wound in his back.

Without any hesitation, Hutch scrambled over to the mound of dirt and began digging frantically with his hands. "Hang on, buddy…" he cried out even as the tears flooded his eyes. "Don't you die on me now you son of a bitch…"

Huggy immediately dropped his gun to the ground and ran over to kneel beside Hutch, helping him dig. It wasn't long before they uncovered Starsky's body. His skin was white and cold, his eyes closed. The stench of gasoline filled the air as they dug.

Hutch reached down and pulled his former partner's upper body into his arms, ignoring the burning fumes of the accelerant as he buried his face in those thick dark curls. "Nooooooo…." He wailed, the sound of his voice sending a chill down Huggy's back. Huggy's hand was shaking as he reached out and pressed his fingertips against the side of Starsky's neck. The skin was cold and clammy. Huggy was shocked to find a feeble pulse beating faintly against his fingers.

"HUTCH! HE'S STILL ALIVE!" Huggy yelled, grabbing the distraught blond's shoulder to gain his attention "DAMN IT, HUTCH! DO YOU HEAR ME? HE'S STILL ALIVE!"

Hutch didn't respond, he just held Starsky tighter and began rocking back and forth. Knowing that there was no time to waste, Huggy jumped to his feet and ran back to the rental car to use the CB radio to call for help. He prayed that help would arrive before it was too late. When he returned from his task, he found Hutch giving the injured brunet CPR. Huggy knelt down on the opposite side and took over the chest compressions as Hutch continued the rescue breathing. Concentrating solely on the immediate task of keeping their mutual friend alive, neither one of them noticed the sirens when help finally arrived.

When one of the arriving paramedics grabbed Hutch's arm to try and get to Starsky so he could access his condition, the agitated blond came up swinging. It took Huggy and three police officers to pull Hutch away so the paramedics could take care of their critically injured patient. Even Huggy's soothing voice couldn't penetrate Hutch's terrified mind.

"STARSKY!" Hutch screamed as he struggled with the men who were keeping him from his partner's side. "DON'T GO! TAKE ME WITH YOU! DON'T LEAVE ME HERE ALONE AGAIN!"

Suddenly, Hutch's eyes rolled back in his head and the big blond collapsed as he passed out. The police officers gently eased him down to the ground and looked at Huggy gravely. In a tense voice, one of them said, "Okay, fella…wanna tell us what the fuck is going on here?"

Huggy quickly explained the situation to the disbelieving officers. One of them searched the three dead men for identification. Gunther was the only one carrying a wallet but his name was well known to the officers on the scene. Fortunately, one of them remembered seeing the flyers about Starsky which helped to confirm Huggy's fantastic story. Their attitude immediately changed as they joined Huggy in a silent prayer for the brunet that the paramedics were frantically trying to stabilize.


	16. Chapter 16

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN**

Hutch paced from one end of the hospital waiting room to another. It seemed like hours since the ambulance had delivered a barely breathing Starsky to the emergency room. Huggy sat in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs that seemed universal to every hospital waiting room he had ever had the misfortune to be in over the years. He watched his blond friend carefully. He knew that Hutch was starting to unravel now that Starsky had finally been found.

A doctor stepped through the doors that barred them from the treatment area and looked around the room. In a weary voice, he said, "Family for David Starsky?"

Hutch rushed over to the doctor with Huggy right on his heels. In a anxious voice, he said, "That would be us. Is he okay? Can I see him?"

The doctor looked at the tall blond and the skinny black man with an arched eyebrow, obviously skeptical about their relationship to his patient. Before he could question them, Huggy Bear said, "We're the closest thing to family that he has. His immediate family is all gone."

Apparently satisfied with that answer, the doctor nodded and said, "Mr. Starsky is alive but in critical condition. He's been severely beaten and has several serious injuries."

"What kind of injuries?" Hutch asked grimly.

"He has six broken ribs, a punctured lung, several severe burns, especially around his eyes from a caustic substance, most likely gasoline, and both of his knee caps are broken. He also had a ruptured spleen that we had to remove and some internal bleeding that took us awhile to control. In addition, he has a severe concussion with a possible skull fracture. We'll be able to access his condition better when he wakes up. Right now, he's in a coma."

"But, he's going to be okay. Right?" Huggy asked, resting a comforting hand on Hutch's shoulder. He could feel the trembling of the other man's muscles beneath his fingertips as Hutch absorbed the information that the doctor had just given them.

"That depends on your friend. He appears to have been in good physical condition before this incident and that's in his favor. But, at this point, I can't give a definitive answer. The next seventy-two hours will be critical. If he survives that, then he has a fighting chance of making it."

"Can I see him?" Hutch demanded "What room is he in?"

"I told you, he's a coma. He wouldn't even know you're there. I'd advise you to wait a few days before you see him." The doctor answered in a patient voice, as if reciting his speech by rote. He wasn't prepared for Hutch's reaction to his statement.

"I need to see him and I need to see him now!" Hutch said in a cold, deadly voice. He never raised his voice but the tone of his voice left no room for argument. "Now, you can either tell me where he is or I will tear this hospital apart until I find him!"

"Doc, I'd think you should do what he says." Huggy said quietly "Starsky and Hutch here are really tight. Believe me; Curly will get better a lot quicker if Blondie is there with him."

The doctor hesitated and seemed to be considering refusing until he saw the murderous look in Hutch's eyes. He wisely decided to rescind his former statement and said, "Very well. I'll allow it. But, I do not want the patient disturbed. He's in the ICU. I'll tell the nurses to allow you to see him but you will have to leave when they ask you to."

Hutch turned on his heel without another word and began to walk down the hall in search of his injured friend. Throwing an apologetic glance at the doctor, Huggy hurried after the determined blond. The helpful directory on the wall beside the elevator directed them to the ICU which was on the fourth floor of the hospital.

Ignoring the nurses on duty, Hutch strode down the hallway, glancing in each room, until he found the cubicle where Starsky was. He stepped into the room, pausing beside the bed, and staring at his unconscious friend. Tubes snaked under the covers to various parts of Starsky's body and numerous machines surrounding the bed monitored his vital signs. His eyes were bandaged but patches of red skin could still be seen on his face. Hutch knew from previous experience that other bandages on the lean body were hidden by the hospital gown and the blanket.

Hutch sank down in the chair beside the bed, remembering all the other times he had sat this same lonely vigil at the brunet's side when he'd been injured in the past. He longed to take Starsky's hand but resisted the urge, no longer sure that his touch would be welcome. The past ten years loomed between them like an invisible barrier. Hutch found himself wondering if the unique bond they had once shared was severed permanently or if they could find something worth salvaging.

The sudden urge to drink almost overwhelmed Hutch. While searching for Starsky, he had been able to keep his demons at bay and resist the lure of the alcohol but now, that urge was impossible to ignore. Hutch took a deep, cleansing breathe and tried to calm his ragged nerves. Sensing Hutch's state of mind, Huggy took a step closer and clasped the broad shoulder, offering what little comfort he could. The thin black man knew that Hutch's primary emotional support system was lying on that bed in front of them. He closed his eyes and sent a silent prayer to heaven for Starsky's survival. He knew that losing Starsky, then finding him again, only to lose him again now would totally destroy Hutch this time. Starsky's life wasn't the only life that was hanging in the balance.

The nurses came in periodically to check the monitors and make notes in Starsky's chart but none of them told the two friends that they had to leave. Something in Hutch's face or in his dejected posture seemed to touch them, so they bent the rules and allowed him to stay where he was. Huggy smiled to himself. He doubted if any of them could have forced Hutch to leave Starsky's side at this point anyway. Huggy found a second chair in the hallway and brought it in to the room. Settling down beside Hutch, he made himself comfortable and waited for some sign of improvement in Starsky's condition.

After a few hours, stiffness and the call of nature, forced Huggy and Hutch both to their feet. Hutch paused and looked down at his friend, obviously reluctant to leave the brunet's side, even for a few minutes.

"Come on," Huggy said gently. "Let's get you something to eat. Curly ain't going anywhere."

Hutch turned to look at Huggy, the expression on his face tearing at Huggy's heart. In a broken voice, he said, "I don't want to leave him, Hug. What if something happens to him while I'm gone?"

"We'll make sure that the nurses know where to find us." Huggy reassured him. "You ain't gonna do anybody any good if you end up in here beside him."

"God, I want a drink…" Hutch admitted, hanging his head in shame.

"Wanting a drink is one thing, taking that drink is another story." Huggy told him. "As long as you don't do that, it's gonna be okay."

"I don't know if I can do that…" Hutch mumbled under his breath as they walked down the hall towards the men's room.

"You do it the same way you've been doing it…one day at a time." Huggy told him confidently. "One minute at a time if you have to." He took Hutch's arm and gently guided him into the men's room. He would watch over his two friends the way he always had and be there for them. That's what friends are for.


	17. Chapter 17

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**

For three days Hutch had sat at Starsky's side, waiting and watching for some sign that the brunet was starting to respond to his surroundings. So far, nothing. With Starsky's eyes still bandaged, it was difficult to see if he was starting to wake up or not. Hutch missed seeing those sapphire eyes that were the true window to Starsky's soul.

Hutch reached out and gently rubbed his knuckles across the back of Starsky's left hand. "Come on, babe…don't you think you've been sleeping long enough? It's time to wake up…even if it's just long enough to tell me to shut up." Hutch strongly believed that someone in a coma could still hear the voices of those people they loved. When Starsky was shot and in a coma for weeks, he told Hutch when he woke up that he could sometimes hear Hutch's voice talking to him, anchoring him to reality. "Hey, I haven't spent all this time looking for your sorry ass just to lose you now."

Suddenly, Hutch caught his breath sharply. He was positive that he felt Starsky's hand twinge beneath his fingers. "Starsk?" he whispered "Are you there, buddy?" Drawn to the sound of Hutch's voice like a moth to a flame, Starsky's head slowly turned towards Hutch. Tears flooded Hutch's eyes as he reached out and ran his fingers through those thick curls. In a choked voice, he said, "Hey, buddy…don't try to talk…they got one of those tubes down your throat to help you breathe right now and your eyes are bandaged because you got a little burned on your face."

Hutch tightened his fingers around his friend's hand and squeezed encouragingly. He could feel the tightening of Starsky's muscles as he tensed at Hutch's words. Slowly, he turned his head in the opposite direction, away from Hutch, and weakly tried to pull his hand out of the blond's grasp. Hutch swallowed to dislodge the sudden lump that rose in his throat at what appeared to be Starsky's rejection.

Not wanting to distress the brunet unnecessarily, Hutch let go of his hand. He glanced at the heart monitor, the sound of the increased heart rate registering for the first time. Starsky was obviously awake and upset. A nurse hurried into the room, alerted to the change in Starsky's condition by the alarms at the nurse's station. Hutch stepped back, watching closely as she took Starsky's vital signs and checked the readings on the various monitors. Satisfied that her patient was awake and in no immediate danger, she spoke to Starsky in a quiet, soothing voice, "Try to relax, Mr. Starsky. You're just fine. You're in the hospital and your friend is here with you. I'm going to page the doctor and he will be here shortly to have a look at you. Okay?" The nurse gave Hutch an supportive smile. "He's going to be fine. He's probably just a little disoriented and confused right now, especially with that tube down his throat and his eyes bandaged. I'm sure the doctor will be more than happy to answer any questions you might have." With those parting words, she left the room to contact the doctor and let him know that his patient was awake.

Hutch immediately turned his attention back to his distraught companion. Starsky's head was still turned away from Hutch, but the big blond could see the tense posture and clenched jaw that told him that Starsky was still upset and no doubt scared.

Taking the chance of having his touch rejected again, Hutch stepped closer and reached out to rub the brunet's back soothingly. In that calm, silky voice he reserved solely for his ex-partner and best friend, he said, "Just relax, buddy…the doctor will be here soon and maybe he'll have some good news for you. Maybe he'll even take out that damn tube out now that you're awake." Starsky relaxed marginally but made no attempt to turn back towards Hutch.

Hutch glanced over his shoulder as the doctor treating Starsky hurried into the room. He was a huge bear of a man with a full beard and a friendly, outgoing nature. Hutch had only told him as much as necessary to obtain medical treatment for Starsky without endangering the brunet's safety any further. A firm believer in involving significant others in his patient's care, the doctor had been more than happy to bend the rules to allow Hutch and Huggy Bear free access to the brunet's room.

After a quick, but careful examination, the doctor said in a pleased voice, "Everything looks fine. Your injuries are healing nicely and I think you should be able to go home at the end of the week. I also think we can take that tube out of your throat but I want to leave the bandages on your eyes for a couple of days just to be on the safe side." He looked at Starsky, who had remained quiet and still throughout the examination and the doctor's speech. "Do you understand, David?"

Slowly, Starsky nodded his head. Hutch had registered him under his real name and it was obvious that he was no longer comfortable answering to his own name. the doctor smiled widely. "Good, then let's get started. Have you ever had a respirator before?"

"Yes, he has." Hutch answered for him "A couple of times. He knows the routine."

"Good, then you both know that removing it isn't a very comfortable procedure. But, bear with me and we'll get this over as quickly as possible. David, when I remove the tube, I want you to remember that it may take a moment for you to start breathing on your own. Don't panic, your brain just needs a little kick start."

As the doctor prepared to remove the tube, Hutch instinctively grabbed hold of Starsky's hand and held on tight. He felt the hesitation in Starsky's touch for a moment, then those long, slender fingers wound around his own and held on, drawing support from Hutch as he prepared himself to have the tube removed from his throat.

After a few uncomfortable minutes, the tube was finally out. Hutch watched as Starsky gasped for air a couple of times and then settled into a natural rhythm. Hutch knew from experience that Starsky's throat would be raw and sore making talking almost impossible for a couple more days. He made a mental note to make sure that the pitcher was kept filled with ice chips for the next 24 hours at least.

Silence hung heavily in the room until after the doctor had left. Hutch looked at his friend and smiled, even though he knew Starsky couldn't see him. In a velvety voice, he said, "One down, one to go…you're gonna be back on your feet in no time."

Starsky slowly shook his head from side to side. In a cracked, barely audible voice, he said, "Go home, Hutch…go home and forget you ever found me…"

"Hey, what kind of talk is that?" Hutch said with false cheerfulness to cover up his anxiety at Starsky's flat statement. "Are you crazy, mushbrain? After all the trouble I've had finding you again, I'm not about to let you out of my sight till we get back to Bay City."

Starsky shook his head again. "Not going back…" he whispered hoarsely.

"Why not? It's over, buddy…Gunther's dead…he can't hurt you anymore. You can get your life back again…"

"Too late…" Starsky said, wincing at the pain of forcing himself to talk but desperate to get his point across. "Can't go back…better this way…"

"For who?" Hutch snapped, losing his patience with his headstrong friend. "For you? What about me? What about Huggy? What about everybody back home who cares about you?"

"Go away, Hutch." Starsky mumbled, "Don't want you here…" his voice faded off into silence as he fell asleep, leaving a stunned and confused Hutch to stare at him with a confused and hurt expression on his face. After all this time, Starsky's rejection of their friendship hurt and it hurt badly. He pushed himself to his feet and stumbled from the room. He hurried from the hospital and soon found himself in the closest bar he could find.


	18. Chapter 18

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN**

The bar was dimly lit and dingy, the sunlight blotted out by the grime on the front window. The booths had torn upholstery that had been mended with tape and the table tops were scarred and worn. Empty peanut shells littered the floor and most of the liquor bottles on display behind the bar were covered with a thin layer of dust. Huggy paused just inside the entrance, his eyes sweeping around the room until they finally settled on the tall blond sitting at the end of the bar. The blond's shoulders were hunched forward and several empty beer bottles sat on the bar in front of him. Sighing heavily, Huggy strode across the room to where Hutch was sitting.

"What are you doing here, Blondie?" he drawled, trying to keep his voice calm and level.

"What's it look like I'm doing?" Hutch slurred as he defiantly raised a bottle to his mouth and drained it in one long swallow. "I'm having a drink."

"Looks like you've already had more than your share…" Huggy said as he settled on the bar beside Hutch. He waved the bartender away as he started to walk in their direction. "I meant why are you sitting here crawling back inside that bottle instead at the hospital with Starsky?"

"Because he doesn't want me there." Hutch said in a choked voice "He told me so. He told me to leave."

"So you did?" Huggy said in a surprised voice. "Since when do you listen to Curly when he's hurting and not making sense?"

"When he doesn't even want me to touch him..." Hutch snapped "When he tells me he's not going back to Bay City with us…when he tells me to leave…" There was so much raw pain in Hutch's voice that Huggy felt sorry for the man. But, he knew that pity was the last thing Hutch needed right now. Hutch signaled the bartender for another round.

"Don't you think you've had enough?"

"Nope. Not nearly enough..." Hutch mumbled "I can still feel…"

"So you're just gonna give up? Just like that? You're gonna turn your back on Starsky when he needs you the most?"

"He doesn't need me…he hasn't needed me for the past ten years. He said it was too late and he's right."

"So you're just gonna let him go while you drink yourself to death. Gee, Hutch…with a friend like you on his side, Starsky doesn't need any enemies."

"Fuck you. He doesn't need me. He made that perfectly clear." Hutch snapped with a hint of anger in his voice. The bartender sat the fresh drink on the bar and discreetly slipped away. Hutch picked it up and took a long swallow but the alcohol wasn't giving him the relief he was seeking. The pain was still there, tearing at his soul, the rejection he felt more devastating than when he had believed that Starsky was dead.

"Come on. Blondie." Huggy said firmly, as he slid off the stool and grabbed Hutch's forearm. "Let's go back to the motel so you can sleep it off. We'll straighten this mess out in the morning." He braced himself for Hutch to refuse, secretly relieved when Hutch stood up without any further resistance and meekly followed Huggy outside. He stumbled and leaned heavily against Huggy, who slipped a supportive arm around his intoxicated friend.

With some effort, Huggy got Hutch into the car and drove back to the motel a few blocks from the hospital where he had rented a room for them the night Starsky was found and taken to the ER. Huggy had been alternating his time between the room and the hospital, limiting his visits to give Starsky and Hutch the time they needed to reconnect. Obviously, that had not worked out the way he had planned.

At the motel, Hutch managed to stay on his feet until Huggy got him into their shared room. With a groan, Hutch threw himself down on one of the twin beds and passed out almost immediately. Huggy took a deep breath and pulled off Hutch's shoes. Not wanting to disturb him any further, he left him alone and got himself ready for bed.

Huggy lay in the darkness, lost in his own thoughts. He knew that when Hutch finally woke up, he wouldn't be in any condition to do much but pay homage to the porcelain god. He'd been doing so well, but Huggy knew that alcohol was a patient demon that could wait indefinitely to regain control. Hutch wouldn't be strong enough to weather this setback unless he was able to work things out with Starsky. Huggy knew that whatever the problem was, it couldn't be fixed unless those two stubborn fools talked it out. As Huggy drifted off to sleep, he decided he'd pay Starsky a visit the next morning to try and find out what had happened and what was going on in that curly head.

When Huggy got up the next morning, Hutch was still sleeping soundly. Moving quietly so he wouldn't disturb the slumbering giant, Huggy got dressed and slipped out of the motel room. Twenty minutes later, he was walking into Starsky's hospital room. The brunet was lying quietly on the bed, but he turned his head to one side as Huggy entered the room.

"Who's there?" Starsky said in a strained voice.

"It's me. The Bear."

Starsky relaxed visibly as Huggy pulled up a chair and sat down at the side of the bed. In a hoarse voice, Starsky said cautiously "Where's Blondie?"

"Sleeping it off back at the motel."

"He hitting the bottle again?" Starsky asked in a stunned voice.

"What do you think?" Huggy snorted "After you kicked him out of here and told him not to come back."

"It's better for everybody if he goes home where he belongs." Starsky said in a tight voice.

"What about you? You gonna just disappear again and keep running for the rest of your life?" Huggy asked with a hint of anger in his voice. "Gunther's dead. He's not a threat to you anymore."

"There are others still out there." Starsky said gruffly. "And sooner or later they're gonna find me. It's my fight. Not yours or Blondie's."

"I doubt if Hutch would see it that way."

"You should never have told him about me. He was better off not knowing."

"Oh yeah…he was better off killing himself a little a time…one drink at a time…just like he's doing now."

"That's not my problem."

"Starsky, man…you need Hutch and Hutch needs you. So why don't you stop beating yourself up over what happened to you and talk to his drunken ass?"

"Won't do no good…won't change anything." Starsky muttered

"The two of you together have always been able to beat the odds…me and thee…wasn't that your motto?"

"Not anymore." Starsky said, his voice cracking with emotion.

"Damn it, Curly…you're still as stubborn as a jackass. What do I have to do? Hit you between the eyes with a two by four to get your attention?"

"Somebody already did that." Starsky mumbled with a humorless chuckle.

Huggy sighed heavily and chose his next words with care. "Look, bro…I ain't going nowhere and I doubt very much that Hutch is. So you might as well talk to the big lug. We care about you, man…we love you. You're not alone anymore."

"My ma and Nicky…they're both dead because they loved me." Starsky said in a choked voice. "I'm not going to let you or Hutch be next."

"Why don't you let us decide if it's worth the risk?" Huggy said, reaching out to touch his friend's shoulder in a comforting gesture. He wasn't prepared for Starsky's reaction to his touch. The brunet let out a gasp and suddenly lurched towards Huggy, wrapping his arms around the skinny waist and burying his face against his friend's shoulder as he released ten years worth of tears and fear.


	19. Chapter 19

**CHAPTER NINETEEN**

Hutch groaned as he opened his eyes. He immediately lunged from the bed and rushed into the bathroom where he fell to his knees in front of the commode. He retched violently, emptying the meager contents of his stomach until there was nothing left to bring up. He continued to dry heave for several minutes before finally collapsing in exhaustion against the side of the tub.

He groaned and closed his eyes, too weak at the moment to stumble to his feet. His head pounded relentlessly and his stomach still churned uneasily. He felt disoriented and tired. _Hutch….._his eyes snapped open as the sound of his name whimpered in his head. His heart slammed against his chest as he grabbed the edge of the sink and pulled himself to his feet. As he raised his head to gaze at his reflection in the mirror, the voice he knew so well echoed in his head again, _Hutch…I'm sorry…I need you…_

Hutch felt the pain and fear that clutched at his heart. Instinctively, he knew that his severed connection with his former partner had been returned. Starsky needed him. He was frightened and in pain.

Twenty minutes later, Hutch burst into Starsky's hospital room to find the brunet wrapped in Huggy's arms, sobbing softly against the black man's shoulder. Hutch covered the distance between the door and the bed in two long strides, locking eyes with Huggy as he stepped up beside him. Without a word, Huggy shifted positions, allowing Hutch to wrap Starsky in his embrace.

Starsky gave a strangled cry as he sensed the change in the arms that held him. "Hutch…" he choked out, wrapping his arms firmly around the big blond. He buried his face against the solid shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent of his longtime friend. "I'm sorry...I'm sorry…" he muttered "Please don't hate me…"

"Shhhh…" Hutch soothed his distraught friend, running his fingers through those thick soft curls. "It's okay. I'm here now, Babe….you're not alone anymore." He began rocking back and forth, comforting Starsky as only he could do best. Huggy discreetly slipped out of the room to give the two old friends some much needed privacy.

Soon, Starsky's tears stopped but the brunet remained securely held in Hutch's embrace. For the first time in over ten years, he felt truly safe and protected. Together again at last, both men could now start the long process of healing.

Finally, Starsky gave a feeble shove and Hutch let him go. The brunet lay back against his pillows, his chest heaving as he struggled to regain his composure. His left hand rose to touch the bandages that still covered his eyes, frustrated at his lack of sight.

Hutch wrapped his long fingers around Starsky's arm and gently stopped him from disturbing the bandages.

"Those will come off soon. Meanwhile, I'm here...and I'll be your eyes." Hutch knew how much Starsky had always hated being blindfolded, unable to see if an unprovoked attack was about to happen. That defenseless feeling combined with a childhood fear of the dark stirred up fears that Starsky had trouble concealing.

"Is Gunther really dead?" Starsky asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah, buddy. He's really dead. It's all over. You're safe now."

Starsky shook his head stubbornly. "Those FBI pricks are still out there somewhere."

"Don't worry about them." Hutch said in a firm, determined voice. "Those bastards aren't going to get anywhere near you without going thru me first. And when you get out of here and we go back home, we'll make sure to take your story to the press. That'll keep those assholes from trying anything like this again."

Starsky was uncharacteristically silent for several minutes and then he said,

"I don't know if I can go back. There's nothing there for me anymore."

"I'm there." Hutch said "So is Huggy, Alice and a lot of other people who still care a lot about you. It's your home…and I'll help you get your life back."

"What life?" Starsky grumbled in a disgruntled voice. "I don't have a life anymore. David Starsky is dead. He no longer exists. No job, no apartment, no money, nothing…"

"You have a place to stay with me as long as you want." Hutch told him "And you can work with me at the detective agency. As far as the rest, we'll figure all that out one thing at a time."

"Sounds like you got it all figured out." Starsky snorted, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.

"Ain't nothing to figure out." Hutch said "That's what friends are for."

"Should've known you'd find me."

"Been looking for a long time." Hutch said in a choked voice. His own throat constricted with the strength of his emotions. He grabbed Starsky's hand and squeezed it tightly. After a moment, Starsky squeezed back. Their moment of silent intimacy was disturbed by the arrival of the doctor.

Starsky patiently lay there and let the doctor examine him. When he had finished, the doctor said, "I think we can take those bandages off now. You ready?"

"Yeah," Starsky said, tightening his grip on Hutch's hand for emotional support.

The doctor carefully began to loosen the bandages and unwrap them from around Starsky's head. Finally, his eyes were uncovered. He kept them shut as the doctor ordered until the lights in the room had been dimmed. Then he slowly opened them. His eyes were still red and unfocused as his gaze swept around the room, finally settling on the one familiar and comforting face in the room. Hutch.

"Hey, Blondie." He croaked out with a lopsided grin. "You look like shit." Hutch and the doctor both laughed at Starsky's comment.

"I'm gonna to order some eye drops. I want you to use them for a few days. There's no permanent damage but you will notice some light sensitivity for awhile. The drops will help with that."

"When can I get out of here?" Starsky demanded

"IF you continue to improve the way you have been…maybe sometime next week. Do you have someone to help take care of you when you get out of here?"

"Yes," Hutch spoke up. "He'll be coming home with me."

The doctor nodded and turned his attention back to his patient. "Your body has been through quite an ordeal. The most important thing right now is to get a lot of rest and not to overdo things."

"He won't." Hutch said firmly. "I'll make sure of that."

"I'm sure you will." The Doctor chuckled as he turned and left the room leaving the two friends alone.

Hutch smiled and looked at his old friend, relieved to finally be able to look into those expressive sapphire eyes once more. Starsky smiled back. The two needed no words to communicate how they felt. Their old connection was solidly in place once more.

_I'm glad you're here_

_Me too_

_I'm sorry I was such an ass_

_You're entitled. But, you're not alone anymore_

_Me and thee. Right?_

_As usual. Good to have you back, Buddy_

_It's good to be back. Stay with me?_

_Of course. There's no place I'd rather be. You get into too much trouble by yourself._

_Me? Seems to me I remember you getting into some pretty good messes of your own when I wasn't around._

_Shut up, Starsk and get some sleep. You heard the doctor. You need to rest if you want to get out of here._

Hutch watched as Starsky's eyes drifted shut and his breathing evened out as he fell into a deep, peaceful slumber. Hutch pulled up a chair and sat down to watch over his partner, determined to protect him and keep him safe.


	20. Chapter 20

**CHAPTER TWENTY**

Starsky picked up two smooth stones and laid one on top of each headstone. Hutch stood to one side and watched as his partner stood before his mother and his brother's graves, grieving in silence. His father's grave was beside his mother. Although Starsky still had extended family members living in New York and California, his immediate family was all gone now, each member murdered in some form of retaliation and revenge.

Hutch finally stepped forward and slipped a comforting arm around his former partner's shoulders.

"We'll never know who really killed them, will we?" Starsky whispered in a broken voice. "Gunther or the FBI."

"Probably not." Hutch admitted "The case is too cold and whoever was behind it was too good at covering their tracks."

"Either way, it's still my fault that Ma and Nicky are dead." Starsky said solemnly, his eyes misting with unshed tears.

"It's not your fault," Hutch said firmly. "It's the fault of the bastards who went after them to get to you." He gently guided his friend back to the car where Huggy was patiently waiting. Starsky moved slowly on the crutches he still had to use. His right knee had healed but his left knee had been more severely damaged and he still couldn't put any weight on it. The doctor had told him that it may require additional surgery and had given him the name of a doctor to see once he was back in Bay City.

Starsky still had some reservations about coming out of hiding after so many years but with Hutch by his side for support, he knew that he was ready to reclaim his life and his identity. Hutch had contacted a close friend who worked for a nationwide magazine about what had happened to Starsky and they had agreed to meet with the two men when they returned to California to take Starsky's story public. With the publicity the story was sure to attract, Starsky would be safe. The FBI wouldn't take the risk of trying to retaliate, they would be too busy answering questions about their own actions in Starsky's abduction, forced imprisonment, and alleged murder.

As for Starsky and Hutch, they were together again. Both as friends and partners. Hutch had insisted that Starsky join him as an equal partner in the detective agency he had started. They didn't know what the future held in store but as long as they were together again, they knew they would face it the way they always had. Together. Me and Thee, the way it should be.

As he settled into the front seat, Starsky grinned at Hutch and Huggy and said,

"Let's go home."

THE END


End file.
